A HOMILY FOR THE 3RD SUNDAY OF EASTER

On this Sunday in which we hear once more the wonderful Easter story of the Road to Emmaus, I would like to begin by sharing this beautiful poem by my favorite poet, Denise Levertov.

The Servant-Girl at Emmaus (A Painting by Velazquez)

She listens, listens, holding
her breath. Surely that voice
is his – the one
who had looked at her, once, across the crowd,
as no one ever had looked?
Had seen her? had spoken as if to her?

Surely those hands were his,
taking the platter of bread from hers just now?
Hands he’d laid on the dying and made them well?

Surely that face – ?

The man they’d crucified for sedition and blasphemy.
The man whose body disappeared from its tomb.
The man it was rumored now some women had seen this morning,
                                                                                             alive?

Those who had brought this stranger home to their table
don’t recognize yet with whom they sit.
But she is in the kitchen, absently touching
                                                      the winejug she’s to take in,
a young Black servant intently listening.

swings round and sees
the light around him
and is sure.[1]


[1] ‘The Servant-Girl at Emmaus.’ The painting is in the collection of Russborough House, County Wicklow, Ireland. Before it was cleaned, the subject was not apparent: only when the figures at table in a room behind her were revealed was her previously ambiguous expression clearly legible as acutely attentive.

From “Breathing The Water”, (c) 1984, 1985, 1986, 1987 by Denise Levertov, A New Directions Book.

As Ruth, Luke, and I were doing our prayer service this evening, I read this wonderful poem from Denise Levertov to them. What stands out in this poem is that the servant girl immediately recognized Jesus, something the two disciples were not able to do. They were only able to recognize Jesus when he broke the bread.

During these days of home isolation, with the ability to celebrate Mass and receive communion taken from us, are we able to experience the presence of Christ as the servant girl in the poem, or, do we find ourselves like the disciples unable to experience Christ because the bread is not broken, and we do not receive holy communion?

These days of home confinement presents to us an opportunity to widen our ability to experience the real presence of Christ all around us. Jesus no longer remains a prisoner of a tabernacle in a church building. Rather, we are presented the opportunity to experience the real presence of Christ in one another, in the sunshine, plant life, and animal life all around us. Jesus is no longer confined to a transcendent galaxy far, far away. Jesus is immanent, with us right now in the present. This in no way diminishes the experience of Jesus in the Eucharist, but rather expands our awareness of Christ’s presence far beyond the Eucharist.

Christ is incarnate in all that is around us and within us. When we are able to see the incarnate, resurrected Christ everywhere and within, we live in the fullness of Christ.

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Deacon Bob

I am a composer, performer, poet, educator, spiritual director, and permanent deacon of the Catholic Church. I just recently retired after 42 years of full-time ministry in the Catholic Church. I continue to serve in the Church part-time. I have been blessed to be united in marriage to my bride, Ruth, since 1974. I am father to four wonderful adult children, and grandfather to five equally wonderful grandchildren. In my lifetime, I have received a B.A. in Music (UST), M.A. in Pastoral Studies (St. Paul Seminary School of Divinity, UST), Certified Spiritual Director. Ordained to the Permanent Diaconate for the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis, in 1991. Composer, musician, author, poet, educator. The Gospels drive my political choices, hence, leading me toward a more liberal, other-centered politics rather than conservative politics. The great commandment of Jesus to love one another as he has loved us, as well as the criteria he gives in Matthew 25 by which we are to be judged at the end of time directs my actions and thoughts.

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