DON’T FLEE TO EMMAUS
There are more than a few who look at the Church today with pessimism and disappointment. It’s not the one they would want. An alive and dynamic Church, faithful to Jesus Christ, truly committed to constructing a more human society.
They see it immobile and out of synch, excessively concerned about defending an obsolete morality that is of little interest at this point, making labored efforts to recover a credibility that seems to find itself «subpar». They see it as an institution that is there almost always to accuse and condemn, seldom to help and infuse hope in the human heart. They frequently feel it sad and bored, and somehow intuit – along with the French writer Georges Bernanos– that «the opposite of a Christian people is a sad people».
The easy temptation is abandonment and flight. Some recently have done it, inclusive in a noisy manner: today they almost proudly affirm believing in God, but not in the Church. Others go about distancing themselves from it little by little, «on tiptoes and making no noise»: without anyone realizing it the affect and adhesion of other times goes about being extinguished.
Certainly it would be a mistake to nourish a naïve optimism in these moments, thinking that better times will come. Even more serious would be closing our eyes and ignoring the mediocrity and sin of the Church. But out worst sin would be to «flee to Emmaus», abandoning the community and dispersing ourselves, each on our own going down the road, sinking into deception and disappointment.
We need to learn the «lesson of Emmaus». The solution isn’t abandoning the Church, but remaking our connection with some Christian group, community, movement or parish where we can share and revive our hope in Jesus.
Where some men and women are journeying, asking themselves about him and going deeper into his message, there the Risen One becomes present. It’s likely that one day, when they hear the Gospel, they feel once again «our hearts burning». Where some believers meet to celebrate the Eucharist together, there is the Risen One nourishing their lives. It’s likely that one day «their eyes are opened» and they see him.
As dead as it may appear before our eyes, in this Church lives the Risen One. That’s why even here the verses of Antonio Machado have meaning: «I thought my hearth had gone out, I stirred the ashes… I burnt my hand».
José Antonio Pagola
Translator: Fr. Jay VonHandorf
