From the Gospel of Luke:
“Now on that same day two of the disciples 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.”
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Who do we fail to recognize? On Saturday evening, at the Easter Vigil in a small rural church, a couple attended whom no one recognized. There was a young woman who seemed very comfortable in an Episcopal Church and she was accompanied by a young man who was covered in tattoos, had a hat pulled low over his eyes, and hadn’t seen a washcloth in awhile. I think he may have been coming straight from work, but I don’t know. I introduced myself and welcomed them to the service. They were polite. During the service the woman participated and seemed engaged. The man, not so much. If I needed to choose a word I would say he begrudgingly participated. He could barely stand in front of me for communion and did not make eye contact.
I can’t get him out of my mind.
I hope I truly saw him and I wonder if he saw me.
I hope his eyes were opened some. I’d love to know his story.
A couple of things seem clear to me: he is a good friend/partner/whatever to the woman because he was there.
I have no idea if he was touched by the service.
He may never give it a second thought. But I am giving it a second thought.
Who was he? How is he? Did our liturgy do anything for him?
I didn’t recognize him. Did he recognize me? Did I do enough?
People cross our paths.
Are our eyes open enough to see them?
Easter Day 2.
