“In the Breaking of the Bread” is a liturgical contemporary piece. In my entire professional career as a liturgical musician, I have only had the opportunity to use it once in liturgy. This was during a global pandemic. I accompanied two cantors as we offered this song to God in an empty Church at Easter. The emptiness is something I will never forget. It was the most important day of the year, and the House of God was empty. Everyone was watching on a livestream. This is a time in life that is forever etched in my heart. Here’s a recording of this beautiful song:

This song hits particularly strongly this Sunday. The lyrics tell the Gospel story we hear this Sunday. Two are on the road; they meet the stranger and share their disappointment that the Savior was crucified. The stranger unpacks the stories of the scripture. As evening approached, they were so moved by their conversation that they asked him to stay with them. As he broke the bread, they recognized the stranger as Jesus, who suddenly disappeared from their sight. They returned to Jerusalem to tell the others they had seen the Risen One. Their hearts burned when they were with him and knew him in the breaking of the bread. As I reflect on these words, I am reminded of art that powerfully captures this moment.

In considering the Emmaus story’s emotional landscape, Daniel Bonnell’s work comes to mind. He has masterfully layered colors in this piece. The deep blue sky dominates the canvas with strokes of pink, purple, and orange. The dramatic landscape mirrors the distraught disciples’ internal journey as they walk with the stranger. The colors allude to loss and bereavement but also to passion. This connection between art and narrative deepens as we examine the painting more closely.

The two travelers in the right-hand corner of the painting, with the stranger, appear vulnerable against the backdrop. Yet, as they continue, a new day begins. Brilliant sunlight will soon transform the sky. This transformation in the painting leads us back to the message of hope found in the Gospel.

Here are two takeaways on this Sunday’s Gospel: Jesus is always walking with us. We are invited to recognize him in the breaking of the bread. Let us explore each of these insights.

Jesus will walk with us so that we are aware of his presence. Other times, Jesus will walk in front of us. He can guide us on where the journey will pivot and curve. It is an act of trust (Psalm 23:4). Then, there are times Jesus walks behind us. He has equipped us to navigate the way. We are never alone. While we feel alone, night will come, and Jesus will stay with us. Turning to the second idea, we consider how we recognize him in the breaking of the bread.

The second idea is recognizing him in the breaking of the bread. It is easy for me to say, “Go to Mass, and you will find him there.” While that is very true, allow me to stretch the thought. The shape of the Eucharistic celebration is that the bread is blessed, broken, and shared. If it is true that I become what I receive, or better put, I become who I receive, then my life must become blessed, broken, and shared.

We are blessed, favored by God, never forgotten by God, always in God’s loving presence. We are broken from the situations and disappointments of life. We hold firm to the hope that God holds us together. We are broken so that our lives are shared with others. When we talk about living a Eucharistic life, it begins with celebrating the Eucharist and moves into recognizing we are blessed, broken, and shared. We are the living presence of the Risen One in the world. Our lives return to the Eucharist over and over again to behold the slain and Risen Lamb, the Stranger, the One who gives life a new horizon. We see him in the breaking of the bread.

Remember that people are not changed because of us; they are changed because they see the Risen One grafted into our lives. There is a big difference when it is Jesus who changes hearts.

A final thought. Jesus broke the bread and disappeared from their sight. Where did he go? He disappeared into the mission of the Church. Whoever recognizes him in the breaking of the bread, and whoever eats his body and drinks his blood, commits to the mission he entrusted not only to the newborn Church but to you. So let it be.