HOMILY
2026 Lenten Deanery Holy Hour
“Finding Peace in Challenging Times”
Luke 24:13-35

What a blessing, friends, to join in prayer during this holy season of Lent – to reflect upon the Word of God and its power to speak to our lives a message of forgiveness, reconciliation and hope – and to do so before the Most Blessed Sacrament, the living presence of God among us.  I thank our host pastor (N), (N), the Dean of the (N) Deanery, my brother priests and deacons and so many of you from parishes throughout this region of our diocese for the opportunity to pray with you this evening. 

In preparation for this Deanery Lenten Holy Hour, which by now in its fourth year has become something of a tradition for me and our diocese, I asked a few folks what they thought might be a worthy topic for reflection.  One person captured best what everyone else seemed to share, “Bishop, I would so appreciate if you could simply share how our faith can help us get through each day.  We don’t need complicated theological explanations.  We just need to know how to find God’s peace amid the crosses we carry in these challenging times.”

I think it’s safe to say that this is a desire that we all have.  For even though we are all in different places, every one of us confronts challenges that test our faith and unsettle our lives, don’t we?  Some of us are struggling with grief and loss.  …  Some are caring for an aging parent or a special needs child, dealing with addiction or financial struggles.  …  Some of us are confronted daily by the immigration crisis in our country and your presence reminds us that while there is a need to protect the common good and maintain our borders, you are not strangers, but our brothers and sisters, entitled to seek a better world and to be treated with God-given dignity.  …  Some of us may be in this church tonight not even sure of why we’re here – just looking for some power and presence in our lives to give us hope.  …  So where do we begin?

I’d suggest that a starting place is the powerful scripture passage proclaimed this evening from Saint Luke’s gospel – the road to Emmaus story that chronicles the risen Jesus’ appearance to two disciples on the first Easter Day.  We often focus upon this passage for its Eucharistic themes.  But, there are other elements of the story that speak to how we find peace amid the crosses that we carry.  …  First is the cross, not only in the life of Jesus but in the lives of the two disciples on the road and in our lives as well.  …  Second is the disappointment faced by the disciples and their longing for Jesus.  …  And third is the disciples’ discovery of the risen Lord and the peace he brings in the very midst of lives turned upside down.  …  Let’s look a bit more carefully at these three elements of the story.

Let’s talk first about the cross.  …  On the very day of the resurrection, two downcast disciples began reflecting with a stranger about Jesus, whom they described as “a prophet mighty in deed and word” and who “would be the one to redeem Israel.”  That was, until a cross got in his way – and theirs. 

Jesus’ cross turned their world upside down – just like the crosses that impact our lives.  I’m sure they wondered – as we do – why God didn’t just spare Jesus – and us – from the cross he carried and from the ones that come our way?  Yet, for whatever reason, God doesn’t work this way.  While we’re fixers, wired to respond to painful things and do all that we can to make them better, God acts differently than how we imagine he should act and respond. 

In fact, we’ve been wondering about God’s ways since the very beginning of salvation history, haven’t we?  From Job in the Old Testament to Martha and Mary when their brother Lazarus died, to you and me this day, we believers have cried, and expressed anger, pain and sorrow in the face of the crosses that have come into our lives – all without seemingly getting a reaction from God.  …  And why is that you might wonder?  Because God is absent?  Because God doesn’t care?  …  Not at all.  We react the way we do because we have always expected God to reflect our image and likeness – rather than accepting that we are made in his! 

Look once again at the Emmaus story.  As much as the two disciples felt that they were suddenly on their own, burdened with the residue from Jesus’ cross, they weren’t alone at all.  Jesus was with them, wasn’t he?  They just didn’t recognize him. …  Nor is God absent from our lives just because we’re carrying a cross or angry that God won’t help us crawl out from underneath one. 

How can I say this with such certitude?  These three words: “And Jesus wept.”  Jesus did the same thing that we would have done when he was confronted with the cross of his friend Lazarus’ death.  …  And he wept over the fate of Jerusalem.  …  And he wept in the Garden of Gethsemane.  …  Like us, he was burdened with human grief and loss.  But he knew that his Father – God – walked with him as he faced his cross.  …  And Jesus walks with us as we carry ours. 

Father Ron Rolheiser, a contemporary spiritual writer, puts the crosses that invade our lives into a perspective that we often fail to appreciate.  We’re inclined to equate our efforts to live a good and faithful life with our ticket to peace, aren’t we?  Yet, he states, “Jesus never promised us rescue, exemptions, immunity from cancer or escape from death.  Rather, he promised that in the end, there will be redemption, vindication, immunity from suffering and eternal life.  But that’s in the end; in the early and intermediate chapters of our lives, there will be the same kind of humiliation, pain and death that everyone else suffers.” 

So, how do we best carry our crosses in a way that both reflects Jesus’ invitation to do so and that is life-giving?  Jesuit Father James Martin, in his book Jesus: A Pilgrimage, suggests six things.

First, he suggests that we accept the reality that suffering is a part of life.  At some point, we must make peace with the fact that pain, misfortune, sadness and death will make their way into our lives.  To believe otherwise is to yield to resentment and anger when life doesn’t go our way.  …  Second, taking up our cross means that we may not pass on bitterness to those around us.  …  Third, following Jesus requires that we accept the fact that there will be many deaths that we endure before our physical death, such as the loss of loved ones, illness and pain.  …  Fourth, we must wait for the resurrection.  So much of discipleship is about waiting – in frustration and pain – for something better.  …  Fifth, carrying our cross daily means accepting that God’s gifts to us may not be what we expect.  …  And sixth, taking up our cross means believing that along the way and in the end, nothing is impossible for God.  …  That belief in the power of God, brothers and sisters, is where resurrection enters our lives and peace begins to take hold of our wounded spirits!  …  God doesn’t promise us a perfect world free from suffering, no matter how faithful we are.  But he does promise forgiveness, redemption and life because of Jesus’ cross. 

 Now let’s reflect a bit on the disappointment of the disciples and their longing for Jesus.  Make no mistake, the cross that we’ve just reflected upon, for all its saving grace and power, created disappointment and despair for the two disciples.  Yet, for all their pain, it wasn’t enough to extinguish the love of God that had been planted within their hearts.  They still longed for Jesus – as we do.  They wanted more.  “We were hoping he would be the one to redeem Israel.” 

Despite the upheaval that Jesus’ cross created for them, they weren’t at all reluctant to still hope that God would respond to them.  They didn’t worry that they had somehow offended or disappointed God with their wavering faith or their lack of trust.  They had experienced Jesus’ affection for the least of God’s people – from the tax collector to the prostitute to the outcast Samaritan – and they weren’t afraid to ask, seek and implore God for more in their lives.  …  Nor should we. 

For many years, I was blessed to have a wonderful Jesuit priest as my spiritual director.  For all the wisdom that he shared, he challenged me often to believe these simple words: “There will never be a time when God will not love you!”  …   That’s not cheap grace.  God continually calls us to conversion and to live the gospel message.  But he reminds us that any hope we have is rooted in God’s love – not our righteousness.  …  Do you believe that?  Can you repeat those words to yourself?  …  “There will never be a time when I will not love you.”  …  When you question, when you doubt, never allow such feelings to prevent you from being bold enough to approach God and ask for more of his Spirit.  God’s love isn’t based on our righteousness or how perfectly we recite our prayers.  It is pure gift. 

 Finally, the miracle of the Road to Emmaus story is that the disciples encountered the Risen Lord and found their peace.  Let’s consider how that happened.  With the fire of God’s love still burning within their broken hearts, the two disciples of Jesus were not only prompted to pour out their hearts to the stranger but to also offer him hospitality.  For as distraught as they were, the grace of God enabled them to finally look beyond their own needs to those of another.  “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening, and the day is almost over.” 

The stranger accepted their gesture of kindness and “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.” 

Do you see the miracle of this sacred exchange?  While carrying their own crosses, the two disciples were still humble enough to trust in the power of God’s love – a love that enabled them to welcome a stranger and in that very act to encounter the risen Jesus and discover their peace.  

The disciples’ experience speaks a great deal to us, doesn’t it?  Like them, will never escape the crosses that make their way into our lives.  But we can live with them – and we can find peace in midst of them – if we allow ourselves to be loved by God, on God’s terms, not ours – if we nourish that love through the Eucharist – and if we extend that love, even to the stranger.   

In his message to the Church for Lent, Pope Leo put it best, “Let us ask for the grace of a Lent that leads us to greater attentiveness to God and to the least among us. … Let us strive to make our communities places where the cry of those who suffer finds welcome, and listening opens paths towards liberation, making us ready and eager to contribute to building a civilization of love.”  …  Therein, brothers and sisters, we find the surest means to finding God’s peace amid the crosses we carry in these challenging times.  Amen!