Come Eat

Learning how to love the food of the Eucharist

04/23/2023

Lk 24:13-35 That very day, the first day of the week, two of Jesus' disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they were conversing about all the things that had occurred. And it happened that while they were conversing and debating, Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him. And he said to them, "Oh, how foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?" Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them what referred to him in all the Scriptures. As they approached the village to which they were going, he gave the impression that he was going on farther. But they urged him, "Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over." So he went in to stay with them. And it happened that, while he was with them at table, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them. With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he vanished from their sight. Then the two recounted what had taken place on the way and how he was made known to them in the breaking of bread.

I have really enjoyed having my dog Apollo for four months now, and miraculously, we are both still alive! People say that a dog is a man’s best friend, and I believe a dog is also a priest’s best friend. Why? Well, of course, we all know how loving, affectionate, and loyal dogs are to their owners. It is nice to return to the rectory after a long day and be greeted with slobbery kisses and play fetch with a stick and go for a walk. Dogs are great companions and help us priests overcome any loneliness for not having a family. Although at the end of a day dealing with people, I love some loneliness!

But there is another sense in which a dog is a priest’s best friend, that is, they teach us patience. Recently I switched Apollo’s dog food from beef to chicken so that he might have a little variety and guess what he did? He went on a hunger strike and did not eat for a whole day! You see, Apollo is the dog of an Indian priest so just like Mahatma Gandhi went on a hunger strike to defeat the British, so Apollo tried the same tactic on me, playing on my Indian sympathies. Smart dog.

But in this battle of wills, dog versus priest, mine was just a little stronger, and he finally caved in and ate the chicken the following day. In other words, Apollo has taught me how hard it can be to be a parent. You parents already know this because you often engage in a battle of wills with your children. I taught Apollo to eat his food – and we always say Grace before his meals. And Apollo has taught me patience (how to be a better father), and that is another reason a dog is a priest’s best friend.

In the gospel today from Luke 24, we see Jesus dealing with some of his best friends, two disciples on the road to Emmaus. And to be honest, I don’t know who had it harder, me or Jesus in trying to teach our best friends important life lessons. And by the way, it turns out we are both teaching the same lesson, namely, what to eat, and why we have to eat it. How so? Well, if you step back and look at today’s whole gospel reading of Luke 24:13-35, you can see the unmistakable outline of the Mass.

First of all, the whole episode occurs on a Sunday, because Luke notes it was “the first day of the week” just like we go to Mass on Sundays. Second, Jesus explains the Scriptures to the disciples, which is what happens in the first half of the Mass called the Liturgy of the Word. We, too, focus on the Scriptures. And third, Jesus stays for supper and reveals himself to them in “the breaking of the bread.” That is clearly a reference to the second half of the Mass, the Liturgy of the Eucharist, where we focus on sharing a meal with Jesus and with one another.

But the part of the story I can relate to best is Jesus’ frustration with his disciples. He rebukes them saying: “Oh, how foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke!” That is exactly what I said to Apollo: “Oh, how foolish you are, Apollo! And how slow of heart to believe that this food I am giving you is the best for you!” And isn’t Apollo’s attitude and the disciples’ attitude exactly how we are with the Eucharist, too? We are foolish and slow to understand, and we are not eager to enjoy the Eucharist.

My friends, do you know anyone who has gone on a spiritual hunger strike lately and refuses to come to Holy Communion? That is, do you know any Catholics who have stopped practicing their faith and no longer go to Mass “on the first day of the week” on Sunday? Do you know any Catholics who no longer recognize Jesus “in the breaking of the bread” and think Mass is boring? Yeah, don’t worry I know a few Catholics like that, too.

In other words, there is a cosmic battle of wills being waged all the time. Oh, it’s not the canine will and human will of Apollo versus Fr. John. But between the human will of fallen away Catholics and divine will of Jesus Christ who gives himself to us in the Eucharist and says “Come, eat.” If I had a penny for every time I said “Come, eat! Come, eat!” to Apollo, we’d never take another collection in this church! In other words, like Apollo did for a day in his Mahatma Gandhi hunger strike, we may spend years doing, filling our hearts with the scraps that fall from the tables of this world.

But our God is infinitely more patient than I am (thank goodness), and he will wait for us to come to our senses, and stop our spiritual hunger strike. Even if he has to wait until maybe the only Mass we ever attend again is our funeral Mass. Apollo is teaching me a lot of patience, and I need it. But we don’t need to teach God patience because for him, “a thousand years are like a day” (2 Pt 3:8). A dog is always a man’s best friend, especially a priest’s best friend, but man is not always God’s best friend.

Praised be Jesus Christ!