Third Sunday of Easter, Year A

The Road to Emmaus is a metaphor and model for the Christian life.


The two disciples gather.  They come together.  They gather in spite of the fact that they are struggling with their faith in Jesus.  They look downcast when they encounter Jesus (whom they do not recognize.)  Their words betray their struggling faith and lost hope: “we were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel”.  As Christians we too gather today.  We gather out of faith and in hope.  And, if we are honest with ourselves, we gather because of our struggles with our faith and hope.  Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, it is important that we come together, we come into communion with each other, because it’s in the midst of that gathering, that communion, that God becomes present in our midst to strengthen our faith and give us hope, in Him and through one another. 


There is another very practical and important reason for us to gather as disciples of Christ.  You see, the one thing about the road to Emmaus, the road of our faith journey, is that there are potholes!  We walk together in this journey of faith just as Jesus sent his disciples together to minister.  We look out for each other, watching out for the potholes in the Road of Faith to Emmaus, to warn each other, to help each other around those potholes, and to help lift each other with God’s help out of those potholes. 

We walk the Road to Emmaus in response to God who calls us to follow this road, planting the seeds of desire in us to follow this road, walking with each other, that we might encourage each other — and ourselves — to stay on that road.  This spiritual companionship is critical.


Now, as the disciples travel the road to Emmaus, they encounter the Risen Christ.  Though they don’t recognize Jesus yet, Christ — God the Word — makes scripture present to them, and breaks it open for them, interpreting all that the prophets had written about him.  We too, as gathered disciples today, have the Word of God made present to us through the readers who, with the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, give their voice to the breath of the Spirit in proclaiming that Word in our midst.  Just as with the disciples on the road to Emmaus, Jesus makes himself present here in our midst through the proclaimed Word!  Do we experience the scripture proclaimed to us in each Mass, each Children’s Liturgy of the Word, each time we pray the Liturgy of the Hours, each scripture study, each What About Monday, Cursillo, and Men’s faith sharing group,  recognizing Jesus present in our midst, our God who is walking with us on our Road to Emmaus faith journey?  Are our hearts burning within us when we hear the Word proclaimed? 


Though fed by Jesus the Word on the road to Emmaus, it is only in the breaking of the bread that the disciples finally come to recognize Christ in their midst.  And how powerful and how much is in that action of breaking bread.  Just as when Jesus feeds the 5,000, just as when he gathers with the disciples in the upper room at the Last Supper, just as when he gathers at table with the disciples in Emmaus, he takes the bread, says the blessing, breaks the bread, and gives it to them.  The fact that Jesus chooses to reveal himself to the disciples in Emmaus in the breaking of the bread tells us that he wants us too to recognize Him today in the breaking of the bread.  In a few moments, those same four actions of Christ will again be made present to us today in the priest, Fr. Chris, who will take the bread from the gift bearers, bless the bread in the Eucharistic prayer, break the bread in the fractionation rite, and give it to us as Eucharist in Communion.  Ah, that we would have our eyes opened to recognize Christ, the extraordinary in the midst of the ordinary!  To see Christ present, not only in the broken bread, the Eucharist, but equally important and perhaps more challenging, in one another!


What happened next to the disciples at Emmaus confounds us a bit, for the Lord, who wishes that he be made known in the breaking of the bread, disappears from their sight.  What are we to make of this?  St. Augustine gives us insight when he wrote:



He withdrew from them in the body, since he was held by them [now] in faith.  That indeed is why the Lord absented himself in the body from the whole Church, and ascended into heaven, for the building up of faith.  After all, if you only know what you can see, where does faith come in?  But if you also believe what you cannot see, when you do see it you will rejoice.  Let faith be built up, because it will be paid back with sight. (1)


Sisters and brothers, we walk this road of the journey of faith, our Road to Emmaus, together.  Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, we walk it together with the Lord, whether we recognize Him in our midst or not.  It is a journey of a lifetime, lived day-to-day and experienced often daily, as a journey from dark to light, from despair to hope, from unbelief to belief.   It is a journey we walk by faith, and not by sight, no gracious words we hear, as Him who spoke as none e'er spoke, and we believe him near. (2)


 (1) St. Augustine, sermon 235 in Sermons, trans. Edmund Hill, O.P., The Works of St. Augustine III/7 (New Rochelle NY: New City Press, 1993)

 (2) We Walk by Faith:  text by Henry Alford (alt.), tune by Marty Haugen.  ©1984, 2006, GIA Publications, Inc.



Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • August 9, 2026
We all have storms in our lives. The issue for Peter seemed to have been, when he took his eyes off of Jesus, he began to drown. We need to keep our eyes on Jesus and when we experience storms in our lives that is how we get through, we keep our eyes on Jesus and we get through. The second thing Peter did when he began to drown is he called out to Jesus, “Save me, Jesus.” Jesus reached out and took Peter’s hand. Peter experienced being saved by the hand of Jesus. Today’s Gospel reminds me of the song “Hold On” from the musical The Secret Garden , based upon the book by Frances Hodgson Burnett. In the play, Mary Lennox is orphaned and moves in with her uncle. Her uncle is a hunchback and his wife died in childbirth; their child (Mary's cousin) is kept in isolation for fear he will be a hunchback like his father. Mary discovers her cousin’s mom’s garden and together they work to bring it back to life. The child begins to get well; when her uncle’s brother complains, Mary consults Martha the maid. Martha sings “Hold On”. Martha is singing about the situation with Mary’s cousin and uncle, but holding on to the face of Christ is how we weather our storms. Look up the song on YouTube. Here are some of the words from the song: When you see the storm is coming, See the lightning part the skies, It's too late to run- There's terror in your eyes! What you do then is remember This old thing you heard me say: "It's the storm, not you, That's bound to blow away." Hold on, Hold on to someone standing by. Hold on. Don't even ask how long or why! Child, hold on to what you know is true, Hold on 'til you get through. Child, oh child! Hold on! When you feel your heart is poundin', Fear a devil's at your door. There's no place to hide- You're frozen to the floor! What you do then is you force yourself To wake up, and you say: "It's this dream, not me, that's bound to go away." Hold on, Hold on, the night will soon be by. Hold on, Until there's nothing left to try. Child, hold on, There's angels on their way! Hold on and hear them say, "Child, oh child!" And it doesn't even matter If the danger and the doom Come from up above or down below, Or just come flying At you from across the room!  When you see a man who's raging, And he's jealous and he fears That you've walked through walls He's hid behind for years. What you do then is you tell yourself to wait it out And say it's this day, not me, That's bound to go away.

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • July 31, 2026
The gospel begins with the words: When Jesus heard of the death of John the Baptist.... John is Jesus’ cousin; John is the one who leaped in his mother's womb when he met Jesus in his mother’s womb. John is the one who baptized Jesus and now Jesus hears that John is dead by being beheaded. Jesus is in grief and wants to be alone. We are told that in his grief, Jesus went off to be alone. Word gets out where Jesus is and all the people show up looking for him to heal and feed them. We are told that Jesus’ heart is full of compassion for the people. Rather than telling them to go away, to let him be, he heals them. This is the life of a disciple – people are not in need on my schedule. When people show up, I need to attend to them. We can never do ministry with our eye on the clock. Although he was tired and in grief, Jesus cared for the people. He knew he could not be there always and his disciples would need to help out. When the disciples tell Jesus the people are hungry, the disciples were the hungry ones. Jesus tells them to give them something yourselves. This is Jesus’ way of calling them to act as disciples. I have fed them with my words; if they need food for their bodies, give it to them yourselves. The disciples find five loaves and two fish. Jesus offers a prayer. Jesus gives thanks for what has been provided, an action of gratitude. He then gives them to the disciples to distribute. Jesus is asking them to continue his ministry by feeding the people. What is left over fills 12 baskets; the number 12 reminds us of the 12 tribes. Jesus has come to feed the whole world. Jesus provides the feast and we as disciples share what we have been given with others. The five loaves and two fish are enough to feed the crowd and provide many leftovers. Our God is a God of abundance. What God has provided is not wasted and what God has provided is given to us by disciples who participate in God’s work. If we are to be disciples, we need to learn how to feed others. Like Jesus, we may find that being a disciple interrupts our life. When someone is in need we attend, we put aside our own agenda for a time and attend to the person in need. Our grief may come later after we care for the person in need. Those who were fed echo the words of Isaiah in the first reading. They come and are fed body and soul. The feeding of the soul are the words of Jesus and the feeding of the body comes from the hands of the disciples.

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • July 26, 2026
For many old movie buffs, the movie King Solomon's Mines is a classic. Our first reading tells the story of King Solomon and his prayer for wisdom. “For the treasures of his heart, not his mines, Solomon is rightly remembered.” The parables speak of searching for treasure; for us the treasure is our relationship with God. The one who found the treasure in the field sells all he has to buy the field. The merchant searching for pearls sells all when he finds one that is perfect. Today we are asked to consider: What is my treasure? What is my pearl of great price? What is so important I would sell all I have to possess it? In the parables Jesus is speaking about the kingdom of God. What is more important to us than the kingdom of God? What would I sell to possess the kingdom of God? I am reminded of a story by Fr. Anthony DeMello, a priest from India: When a holy man reached the outskirts of the village and settled under a tree for the night, a villager came running up to him and said, “The stone! The stone! Give me the precious stone!” “What stone?” asked the holy man. “Last night Lord Shiva told me in a dream that if I went to the outskirts of the village at dusk, a holy man would give me a stone that would make me rich forever.” The holy man rummaged in his sack and, pulling out a stone, he said, “He probably meant this one. I found it in the forest yesterday. Here, it’s yours if you want it.” The man gazed at the stone in wonder. It was the largest diamond in the world – the size of a man’s head. All night he tossed about in bed. At break of day he woke the holy man and said, “Give me the wealth that makes it possible for you to give this stone away.” The kingdom of God is not something we possess, but something we seek for and when we find it, we share it with others.