Lectio Reflection – Third Sunday of Easter – Luke 24:13-35 (Year A, 2026)
There is something deeply human about this Gospel. Two disciples walking away from Jerusalem, weighed down by disappointment, confusion, and loss. “We had hoped…” – those words linger for me. They speak of a faith that once burned brightly but now seems overshadowed by events they cannot reconcile.
And yet, it is precisely there – on that road of disappointment – that the risen Jesus draws near.
The God Who Walks With Us
Jesus does not appear in glory. He does not overwhelm them with certainty. Instead, he walks alongside them – unrecognised. This is often the way of God.
We might expect that after the Resurrection, everything would be clear, immediate, undeniable. But the Gospel presents something far more subtle. Jesus is present but hidden.
And I find myself asking: how often in my own life is the Lord walking beside me, and yet I fail to recognise him?
A Divine “Passing By”
One small detail caught my attention in a new way: as they approach the village, Jesus acts as if he will go on. Why would the risen Lord pass them by?
When I reflect on this, I am drawn back into the Old Testament. God often reveals himself by “passing by” – to Moses, to Elijah. It is a way of describing a divine presence that is real, yet not fully grasped.
So, what we have here is more than a simple encounter. It is what we might call a theophany – a revelation of God. But here is the difference: instead of passing by, Jesus stays.
Because they invite him. And that, I think, is crucial. The presence of the risen Christ is not imposed – it is received.
The Scriptures Reinterpreted
The disciples’ problem is not that they have no faith. In fact, they remember everything. They recount the events in detail. They even speak of the empty tomb. But their understanding is incomplete.
They had hoped for a Messiah who would redeem Israel in a particular way. What they encountered instead was suffering and death. And so their hope collapsed.
Jesus does something remarkable. He does not begin with the Resurrection as an isolated event. He returns them to the Scriptures. Beginning with Moses and the prophets, he shows them that the path of suffering leading to glory was always part of God’s plan.
This is a profound insight: we only truly understand the Scriptures in the light of the Resurrection – and we only truly understand the Resurrection in the light of the Scriptures.
Hears Burning Within Us
As he speaks, something begins to change. They later say, “Were not our hearts burning within us?” That phrase is deeply significant. Before they recognise Jesus with their eyes, they encounter him in their hearts. Faith often begins there – not in clarity, but in a stirring, a sense that something deeper is taking place.
And I think this invites me to reflect: do I allow the Word of God to touch my heart in this way? Or have I become too familiar, too comfortable, too distracted to notice?
Recognising Him in the Breaking of the Bread
It is at the table that everything becomes clear. Jesus takes bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them. And in that moment, their eyes are opened.
This is not accidental. This is Eucharistic language. This is how the early Church recognised the ongoing presence of the risen Christ – not just in appearances, but in the breaking of the bread. And just as suddenly as he is recognised, he disappears.
But he is not gone.
He is present now in a new way – no longer confined to physical appearance, but present in the Eucharist, present in the community, present in the Word.
From Discouragement to Mission
What happens next is just as important. They get up immediately and return to Jerusalem. The same road they had walked in sadness becomes the road of mission.
This movement is essential:
- From confusion → to understanding
- From sadness → to joy
- From withdrawal → to witness
The encounter with the Risen Lord always leads outward.
And I find myself challenged by this: if I truly encounter the Lord, does it move me to share that encounter? Or do I remain where I am?
Living in the Presence of Christ
For me, the deepest message of this Gospel is about presence. Jesus is not absent. He is present – on the road, in the Scriptures, in the Eucharist. The Christian life, then, is not about searching for a distant God. It is about becoming aware of a God who is already with us.
I often think of those words: “I am with you always.” And yet, how often do I live as though I am alone? Perhaps this week, I might simply try to become more conscious of that presence – in the ordinary moments, in conversations, in the breaking of bread, in the quiet of prayer.
A Question for Prayer
As you reflect on this Gospel, I invite you to consider:
- Where am I on the road – walking away in discouragement, or returning in hope?
- Do I recognise Jesus in the Scriptures and in the Eucharist?
- What would it mean for me to truly live in his presence?
Closing Prayer (Inspired by the Liturgy)
May your people rejoice, O God,
in renewed youthfulness of spirit,
so that, rejoicing now in the restored glory of our adoption,
we may look forward in confident hope
to the day of resurrection.
Through Christ our Lord. Amen.
by David Walker