When will they realize who is in their midst? When will we realize who is in our midst?

 

(Third Sunday of Easter (A): This homily was given on April 19, 2026 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I. by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Luke 24:13-35).

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Third Sunday of Easter 2026]

 

I think Rod Serling and Alfred Hitchcock would have enjoyed today’s gospel story about the two disciples who met the risen Christ on the road to Emmaus.  That’s because this story has a certain “suspense” about it—and those two men both enjoyed suspenseful stories.

The suspense centers around one issue which can be expressed in the form of a question: When will they realize who it is?  When will these two disciples finally realize who it is who is walking and talking with them?  Will it ever happen?  Or will Jesus just leave them without ever making himself known?

The tension starts right at the beginning.  We find out that these are two disciples of Jesus, who are “conversing about all the things that had occurred” during the previous few days.  So immediately we feel sympathy for them.  After all, they were disciples—close followers of Jesus—men who had put all their hopes in our Lord.  But those hopes were seemingly crushed on the previous Friday, when Jesus was crucified.  Then, all of a sudden, seemingly out of nowhere, Jesus appears and begins to walk with them, and we immediately think to ourselves: “Great!  Now they’ll realize that everything’s all right!  Now they’ll realize that he’s been raised from the dead!  Now they can be at peace.”  But, unfortunately, they don’t recognize him, which is what gives birth to the suspense.  Now why didn’t they immediately know who it was?  That’s an issue that troubles many people.  Was it because they had short memories and couldn’t remember what Jesus looked like three days before?  No, not at all.  They probably didn’t recognize him because our Lord’s body looked a lot different in its glorified state.  Yes, it was the same body he had before the crucifixion, but something about it appeared to be different.  Very mysterious, to say the least.  This is something that we’ll probably never understand fully until we get our own resurrected bodies at the end of time.

And so the two disciples and Jesus begin a lengthy, deep conversation.  And through it all the suspense continues to build, and we keep asking ourselves that ever-present question: “When will they finally realize who it is?  C’mon guys, can’t you figure it out yet?  What’s taking you so long?”

The climax comes when they’re at table at the end of the day.  St. Luke tells us that at that point Jesus “took bread, said the blessing, broke it and gave it to them.”  This, of course, was exactly what our Lord had done at the Last Supper.  The disciples realize that—they realize that Jesus is consecrating the Eucharist for them just as he had done for his apostles a few nights earlier—and their eyes are finally opened.  The suspense, at long last, is over, and Jesus vanishes from their sight.

This changed everything for these two disciples.  That’s such an important fact to keep in mind.  When they finally realized who it was who was in their midst, it changed their mood, it changed their attitude; I dare say it changed their whole perspective on life.  They were no longer depressed and confused.  They were now joyful and anxious to tell everyone the good news.  And they began by immediately running off to the upper room and telling the eleven apostles and the others who were there with them.

There’s a very practical lesson here, I would say, for all of us.  At first, these two disciples did not realize who was in their midst.  That was their problem.  And that, believe it or not, is also our problem.  In fact, it’s really the fundamental problem of human life. It’s the reason the world’s in the mess that it’s in at the present time.  Mother Teresa used to describe the poor and suffering people she ministered to as “Jesus Christ, in distressing disguise.”  Mother Teresa was a woman who always understood who was in her midst!  In other words, she understood that the image of Jesus was mysteriously present in every single human person, and she treated them accordingly.  How easy it is for us to forget that or to ignore that fact—especially when we’re dealing with people who have hurt us or who don’t like us.  But what a different world it would be if we could all get and keep this supernatural perspective that Mother Teresa and all the saints had.  Sin, although it would not be eliminated, would certainly be lessened.

There would be less violence and fewer wars.  There would be less racism, less sexual immorality, less dishonesty.  Because instead of treating others like objects for our own selfish gain and pleasure, we would all begin to treat others with respect, realizing that they are human beings created in the Lord’s image.

Well, we can’t instantaneously change everyone’s perspective in this regard, but we can certainly make the daily effort to change our own, and that will help in a small but real way to change the world.  And how can we begin to be more aware of the Lord’s presence in others?  Well, one way is by taking Mass seriously.  After all, that’s what did it for the two disciples in today’s gospel.  They became aware of who was in their midst because they entered deeply into the Mass that Jesus began to celebrate for them on the road to Emmaus.  No, St. Luke doesn’t call their experience a Mass, but that’s exactly what it was.  Every Mass has two parts: the Liturgy of the Word, and the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  Jesus celebrated a Liturgy of the Word for these men as they walked those many miles to Emmaus.  He quoted from the Scriptures, and gave them a long, long, long homily—far longer than anything you’ll ever get from Fr. Ray (so count your blessings!).  And it’s obvious that they were not daydreaming when this was happening; they weren’t looking at their watches (or should I say sundials?).  They were attentive, they were all ears.  As they later said, their hearts were “burning” inside them.  And then, when they sat down at table, Jesus completed the Mass by celebrating the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  And please notice that neither one of these disciples ran out before it was over.

They became aware of who was in their midst because they entered deeply into the Mass.  And that’s one of the things that will help us to be more conscious of the Lord’s presence in others.  Is it a coincidence that Mother Teresa loved the Mass so much and attended every single day?  I don’t think so.  I believe that’s why she could see “Jesus Christ in distressing disguise” wherever she went.  By the grace of God which we receive at this Mass and at every Mass, may we be able to do the same.

The Gift of Easter and How to Experience It

 

  

(Easter 2026: This homily was given on April 5, 2026 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Acts 10:34-43; Psalm 118:1-23; Romans 6:3-11; John 20:1-9.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Easter 2026]

One night a man had a dream.  In this dream he saw Jesus tied to a whipping post while a soldier scourged him unmercifully.  The pieces of metal and bone that were attached to the ends of the whipping cords tore into our Lord's flesh again and again and again until his back was just a mass of raw meat.  This was a typically-brutal Roman scourging.  Mel Gibson portrayed it well in The Passion of the Christ.  Many people who experienced these scourgings died from them. 

The man watched this horrific scene for several minutes.  Finally he couldn't take it any longer.  As the soldier raised his arm for yet another strike, the dreamer rushed forward to try to stop him.  At that moment the soldier turned around quickly, and the dreamer let out a scream when he saw his face—because the soldier had HIS face.  He was the soldier!

My brothers and sisters, if you do not understand that story, then you will not understand today's story: the glorious Easter story of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.  That's because the only people who truly appreciate the gift are those who understand their need for the gift.  The only people who appreciate deliverance (from sin or anything else) are those who understand their need for deliverance.  I remember reading a story once about the last days of World War II.  At that time the prisoners at Dachau had heard a frightful rumor: Hitler had ordered the execution of all prisoners and the burning of all the concentration camps.  And so when these frightened, exhausted, emaciated men and women heard tanks approach the compound on this particular day, and when they heard one begin to smash against the front gate, they prepared for death.  They thought they were doomed.  Until they saw the American flag painted on the front!  They were being liberated, not exterminated!  Can you imagine how grateful they were at that moment?  In the midst of their suffering, they understood their need for deliverance, and they were elated when it finally came.  The man who had the dream about the scourging of our Lord had a similar awareness of his need.  The instant he saw that he was the soldier, he understood his need for deliverance: deliverance from his personal sins which were responsible, in part, for the sufferings that Jesus endured on Good Friday.

In this regard, I find it significant that the very first person to whom Jesus appeared on Easter Sunday morning was a woman named Mary Magdalene.  Why was she first?  Why not Peter or one of the apostles?  Wouldn't it have made more sense for our Lord to appear to one of them before he appeared to her or to anyone else?  Well, I'm convinced that Mary was given this incredible privilege because at the time she understood her need for Jesus more than the apostles understood their need for the Lord.  The Bible tells us that during his ministry Jesus had cast 7 devils out of Mary Magdalene.  Traditionally she's also been associated with the prostitute who washed our Lord's feet with her tears and dried them with her hair.  Jesus had delivered this woman and set her free from sin and the forces of evil that were destroying her life.  And she knew that she needed to keep Jesus in her life in order to stay delivered.  (By the way, if she were a Catholic today, that means she would be at Mass EVERY Sunday—and probably every day.)  Consequently, because she recognized her great need for Jesus, she remained faithful to him—even when all the apostles had run away.  So it was fitting that she was the first one to see him risen from the dead.  It was not a coincidence.

The message of Easter is that Jesus Christ has won the decisive victory over sin and eternal death for Mary Magdalene and for each and every one of us.  But the Lord did not "force" his victory on Mary, nor will he "force" his victory on any one of us.  If we want to experience the fruits of his redemptive act, then we've got to be like Magdalene and come to Jesus, willing to admit our great need for his mercy.  Which means that we've got to be willing to confront our personal sins!  And not just some of them, but all of them!  The sins of uncharity, the sins of unforgiveness, the sins of greed and materialism, the sins of impurity.  This, of course—this idea of confronting our personal sins—is a radical one for those of us living in the early 21^st century, when personal sin is frequently denied, and guilt is often looked upon as the worst thing in the world.  Well, let's be clear about it: guilt is not the worst thing in the world!  The worst thing in the world is the denial of guilt.  Because if we deny our guilt for our sins, we cannot be forgiven by the Lord.  And we cannot enter heaven!  I'll tell you quite honestly: it always amuses me when so-called experts say that all people need to do to be psychologically happy is to stop feeling guilty about things.  That's ridiculous!  Do you know what they call people who don't feel guilty about anything?  Psychopaths!  Psychopaths are the most guilt-free men and women on the planet!  They can murder a dozen people and think nothing of it!

If we wish to experience the fruits of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, then our attitude must be like Mary Magdalene's—or like John Newton's after his conversion.  I’m talking here about the John Newton who wrote a hymn that we sing in church all the time.  He was born in the early 18^th century.  His mother died when he was 7.  His father was a sea captain and good Christian, but early on Newton rejected the faith his father had tried to instill in him.  Then, from age 17 to age 23, he traveled all over the world and got himself into all sorts of trouble.  He led a promiscuous lifestyle; he was sold as a slave; then, when he escaped, he became a slave trader.  He went through many difficult times.  And nothing ever motivated him to change for the better—until he almost died in a storm at sea.  Then he finally cried out to God, as desperate people sometimes do.  He promised the Lord that if he came out of the storm alive he'd reform.  Now, unlike many others who make similar promises, Newton was true to his word.  In fact, he eventually became a Methodist minister.  That's when he wrote the words to that hymn that almost every Christian knows: Amazing Grace.  He wrote them out of his own experience of facing his sin and receiving new life in Christ.  "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.  I once was lost, but now I'm found; was blind, but now I see."  At the time of his death, Newton had the following words inscribed on his tombstone: "John Newton, Clerk.  Once an infidel and libertine; A servant of slaves in Africa; was, by the rich mercy of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ preserved, restored, pardoned, and appointed to preach the Faith he had long labored to destroy." 

What strikes me about that inscription is the honesty behind it.  Newton was not afraid to admit to the world that he had been a scoundrel.  That's because he understood the power of the Risen Christ to wash away those horrible sins of the past and to eventually bring him to heaven.  Do we understand that power—that power that we have available to us as Catholics in the beautiful sacrament of Reconciliation?  As Newton wrote in the song: "Yes, when this flesh and heart shall fail, and mortal life shall cease, amazing grace will then prevail in heaven's joy and peace."

I said at the beginning of my homily that the only people who appreciate the gift of new life that Jesus brings us by his Resurrection, are those who know how much they need the gift—those who know their poverty, their imperfections, their sins, their need for healing.  People like John Newton, people like Mary Magdalene—and, hopefully, people like us.