The Emmaus Road of Covid 19

Luke 24:13-16

The Walk to Emmaus
Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.

Two family members

from the same household 

walked a necessary journey

to spend lockdown together

As they walked a stranger drew near,

too near, and walked beside them

They eyed him with suspicion

and asked him to stay 2 metres apart.

As he took up a socially distant position

he asked them what was troubling them?

Why the face mask and gloves?

Incredulously, they told him about the virus

about the carnage it was wreaking

and the isolation measures being imposed

How could he not have heard?

He told them about the homeless woman

he’d just met who, for the first time,

was being given a place to shelter

who didn’t know the rules

of social engagement or of distancing

and who could not settle into a new reality

for fear of what awaited her at the other end

when, inevitably she’d be back on the street.

He told them of the young nurse

who, every day, dropped off his children at school

while most of their friends were home

so that he could go and hold the hands

and adjust the masks

of those who were fighting for life

and of his terror that he would

bring the virus home.

He told them of the young man

whose wife had just given birth to their first child

who could not bring the child to be held

by his parents or octogenarian grandparents

who was learning the skills of parenting

through WhatsApp and FaceTime.

He told them of young people

unable to undertake the  rites of passage

that mark their movement through 

all the phases and seasons of life

He told them of folk of all ages

at risk, isolating alone

relying on strangers and neighbours for support

He told them of the pain of families

whose loved ones had died

without family by their side

unable to perform the rituals

of grief and mourning.

He told them story after story

not to diminish their own fear and loss

but to enable them

in the midst of it all

to sense community

to honour sacrifice

to catch a glimmer of hope

and to know

that all that they were being asked to endure

could not last forever

That all that they learned

and the beauty that they witnessed

in the present and in the emerging

would not be lost

when the virus was conquered

And the world would be changed forever

as care

and compassion 

and love

and connection

became gifts 

that were celebrated beyond price

And, when he disappeared from their sight

they found that he had left

on the doorstep

for them

bread and wine

And the law

and the prophets

and the theologians

and the liturgists

no longer mattered

Whether virtual or real

or physical or spiritual

Christ was present in the sacrament they shared

and in the hope and promise

they clung to

for the future.