Let me tell you, for instance, where things can get really messy at Mass, where you sometimes can lose control: It’s mainly at the time of the distribution of Holy Communion! Don’t misunderstand me: Folks are ordinarily quite orderly at communion time. However, it’s the moms and dads who are “dragging” their little kids along…that’s where I sometimes lose control. Kids are really funny (they don’t know it, of course.) But often when they come before me, they will say: “Hey, are you really God?” Or, “Are you Jesus?” More often though they will extend their stubby little hand or grab hold of the ciborium with the sacred hosts and say: “I want some of that too.” At that point the mother or father will say: “You don’t get any yet, come on, let’s go” and they get dragged off. Then the crying begins, of course, and I know well that at this point I have truly lost all control of the situation.

But, of course, who can blame the kids? Everybody else is “getting Jesus” except these little guys and girls. I’d be mad too if I didn’t “get something” at communion time. Who can blame them?

In some mysterious way, I’m sure most Catholics, when they come to church, are asking exactly for what the little kids are asking for. If they could explain it, they would want to say “I had an experience of God today.

How that happens, of course, is a great mystery. Each person experiences God in a unique manner. Fundamentally, however, whether we happen to be at Mass or not, we instinctively want to be in touch with the sacred.

That is exactly the situation we find in the gospel for this Sunday, the beautiful story of the two followers of Jesus who had a sacred experience of meeting Jesus Christ and didn’t even know who it was. You just heard the story: Purely by accident, they meet him on their way home to Emmaus soon after the terrible days of the crucifixion. They have no idea who this stranger is but they strike up a conversation with him about all that has happened in Jerusalem those past few days. It was sad news for them, obviously, but they had to say it.

At last the stranger says: “Here, let me explain what all this means. Have you never read the scriptures? All that just happened was predicted by the prophets.” The disciples, of course, still have no idea who they are talking to, no idea that this man is talking about himself.

Finally, they reach a motel; the day is late, so they invite the stranger to have supper with them. He doesn’t seem all that interested but finally says, “Ok.” In the middle of the supper he takes a piece of bread, breaks it and hands it to them. They probably had a cup of wine too, although it’s not mentioned.

All of a sudden they say: “Hey, wait a minute, we’ve seen all this before. Remember the Last Supper?” At that point they know for sure they are talking with Jesus. It’s the Last Supper all over again.

The question is how did they know it was still the same Jesus? Jesus did not introduce himself. Two things are clear from the past: First, Jesus explained the scriptures and then he broke bread with them. It is probably safe to say that this was one of the first times, after the Last Supper, that Mass was celebrated.

Now, why are we hearing all this? We are hearing all this in the scriptures because the early Christians, our brothers and sisters, wanted everyone to know that you could recognize Jesus if you came together as a community, read and shared the scriptures and then broke bread together. In simplest form, that is what we do each Sunday.

So now let’s go back to the Holy Communion stories I told earlier. If you ask practically any Catholic to name what is most important to them while celebrating Mass together, they will say “when we receive Holy Communion; that is where we meet Jesus Christ.”

The problem with that answer, of course, is that we are missing part of the picture. Jesus actually became recognizable to those early Christians in several ways: First, by gathering the folks. Secondly, by explaining the scriptures. Thirdly, by breaking bread, sharing it and by blessing the cup of wine and sharing it and finally by sending them out to share the good news. That’s about as full, complete and clear a picture of the Mass as you are ever going to get.

So, once again, my friends, here we are, gathered on the Lord’s Day not simply, as we say, to go to Mass. We gather on the Lord’s Day to meet Jesus again. The only difference between ourselves and those two disciples of Jesus at Emmaus is that Jesus should be no stranger to us. We’ve had two thousand and more years to get acquainted with Jesus. The point to remember is that we need to put our mind to all this when we gather on the Lord’s Day.

It would be nice, wouldn’t it, if we could say to one another as we were driving home after Mass: “Were not our hearts burning within us when He explained the scriptures and broke bread with us?” Well, perhaps we are not at that point of “burning hearts” yet, but it’s something to be hoped for, isn’t it? It’s all about recognizing Jesus.

The scriptures: Acts 2: 14, 22-23; 1 Peter 1: 17-21; Luke 24, 13-35