HOSPITALITY

He is alive! The disciples from Emmaus had heard this good news from the women.

Still they walked home dejected, downcast, lifeless. Why? We don’t know. And we don't know why they didn’t recognize Jesus. We know Jesus’ resurrected body was a transformed body. This must have had something to do with their lack of recognition. But, also, they may not have been able to “see” Jesus because they could not accept the possibility that he was alive.

We, too, have heard the Good News, He is risen! He is alive! Are we dejected, downcast, lifeless? Or are we excited to share the encounter we’ve had, after recognizing him in the breaking of the bread? Or, are we somewhere in between?

Are we slow of heart to believe that Christ is with us, as surely as he was with them?

Perhaps, we are slow to believe because it takes trust, and risk, and vulnerability. It was in taking the risk of hospitality, inviting the stranger to break bread with them, that their eyes were opened and they recognized him…and [their] hearts were burning within [them].

Hospitality means opening one's heart to another. The two disciples did, and their hearts were on fire, they were filled with life; they couldn’t contain it but ran to tell the others.

We can learn much about encountering the Risen Christ in the ministry of loving hospitality. That’s why Jesus left us the gift of the Eucharist…becoming Host to us…so that we can be host to one another, especially those who are different from us.

Time and again, Jesus broke bread with those in the margins of life – Zacchaeus, Mary of Magdala, tax collectors, sinners, and prostitutes. Jesus attended to each of them, affirming their inner goodness, taking the risk of making himself vulnerable to ridicule, threats and condemnation. Yet in taking the risk, where previously they were strangers or even enemies, separated by fear and hatred, they became friends. 

To dine with others is to be in solidarity with them…to say to them, I want to be friends with you.

That's risky, and may put us off...unless we're serious about encountering Christ.

Jesus taught us that breaking bread together is symbolic of the paschal feast in the kingdom of God. Thus we take the risk of sharing a meal with those we may not like, and know more fully that we are all parts of one body...his Body...especially when we celebrate the Eucharist.

We also celebrate the Eucharistic meal as a reminder of the ongoing hunger that persists – God’s and ours. We are all hungry, whether we have more than we need or lack what we need. The Eucharist is a call to feed each other's hunger – and God’s - by bridging the great chasm between the have’s and have not’s...and thus experience and give new life. 

Like the Emmaus disciples, we, too, have heard the good news…time and time again, and still, at times, may remain dejected, downcast and lifeless. We may pray to God out there somewhere to lead us out of our doldrums and misery. Perhaps we fail to 'see' the Risen Christ because we may put him back in the tomb, such as the tabernacle, to visit from time-to-time and forget that he came to pitch his tent in us. But if we dare to stick our neck out and be host to another we will discover his Risen Presence in us.

There is a story of a disciple who asks his master, O holy one, give me the question that will renew my soul, and make me feel resurrected. The master replied, The question is, ‘What do they need?’

I shared that story some years back as I was helping the Diocese of Montego Bay in Jamaica, at the parish of Our Lady of Fatima in Ocho Rios, and later received an e-mail from a Good Samaritan, who wrote,

Many times I had driven by a homeless man sleeping on a piece of cardboard on the sidewalk, but never really paid attention. This time after Mass with you I stopped. I learned his name, William, and that he was blind, lost, hungry, and he stank. I took him home, washed him, fed him, dressed him in my clothes, and then helped to get him home to another city. At the beginning I had to overcome the stupid barrier of touching somebody who hadn’t had a bath in weeks or months. Within a few minutes, I experienced this wonderful feeling of peace and harmony grow in me. I have been a Catholic all my life but had never encountered the Risen Christ, till that moment. My heart was racing. Tears streamed from my eyes. Thank you, Fr. Frank.

If we are still looking for the Risen Christ…if we are seeking fullness of life, perhaps we need to take the risk of hospitality and break bread with a stranger. Who is that stranger in your life? What do they need?