Sunday, April 19, 2026

Unread. Message. Emmaus (2026-04-19, Easter 3rd Sunday)

🎧 [Listen to  Homily: Audio]    

📺 [Watch Mass: YouTube Video]   (to be posted by 6 pm April 19)

 [Easter 3rd Sunday 2026 – April 19, 2026, v. 04]

Homily – 3rd Sunday of Easter (Luke 24:13–35)

I’ve noticed something recently with my phone.

My inbox will tell me that I have one unread message—
and I’m convinced I’ve read everything.

I go back, I look again, and I can’t find it.

And that one unread message becomes a distraction.
It troubles/bothers me… until I finally open and read it.

That’s a helpful way to understand today’s Gospel.

On the road to Emmaus, two disciples are living with something like an unread message.

They know the facts—the Cross, the empty tomb.
But they do not yet understand the meaning.


The Gospel begins with them walking away from Jerusalem—
not with hope, but with disappointment.

They had hoped Jesus was the one.
And now everything feels unresolved.

As they walk, they talk, trying to make sense of it all.

And that is where Jesus meets them.

He does not overpower them.
He does not shame them.
He does not force them to believe.

He listens.
He asks questions.
And then He corrects them:

“How slow of heart to believe.”

This is not weakness.

This is meekness.

Meekness is strength under control.
It is truth spoken with patience.
It is the courage to stay in relationship while leading others to what is right.

And then Jesus does something powerful:

He opens the Scriptures.

He helps them understand not only what happened—
but what it means.

And that is the pattern of the Christian life:

Jesus walks with us,
He speaks to us,
He opens our hearts,
and He reveals Himself.


And that matters for us today.

Because we live in a time of confusion and tension.

We hear strong words.
We see division among peoples and nations.
Even among leaders, there can be sharp disagreements.

And we are tempted:

to react quickly,
to speak harshly,
or to withdraw.

But the Gospel shows us something deeper.

Peace is not simply the absence of conflict.

Peace must be built.

It is what Scripture calls shalom:
right relationship with God and with one another.

And that kind of peace begins with hearts that have been changed by Christ.

That is why the Church calls us—especially now—
to pray and to fast for peace.

Because this is how Christ continues to walk with us,
to correct us,
and to transform us.

So we are called to pray:

for the Church,
for the Holy Father,
for civil and government leaders of nations and peoples,
and for peace in the world.

Because without conversion of heart,
there can be no lasting peace.


There is one more “unread message” in this Gospel.

And it is this:

What is the meaning of suffering?

Jesus tells the disciples that the Messiah had to suffer
and then enter into His glory.

And that can be hard for us.

We think:
Does it have to be this hard?
If I suffer now, will things be easier later?

Sometimes that is true in small ways—
like learning a skill or building discipline.

But the deeper truth is this:

There is no real love without sacrifice.

Every form of love—marriage, family, friendship—costs something.

But Christianity does not say that suffering is good by itself.

It says that when our suffering is united to Christ,
it is transformed.

It becomes part of His Cross.

And instead of leading only to frustration,
it can lead to strength, to patience, and to holiness.


It’s a little like the love of a parent—or a spouse.

Parents are called to sacrifice for their children.
Spouses are called to sacrifice for each other.

But they don’t do this to make the other person love them.
And they don’t do it to make themselves look good.

They do it for the good of the other—
often quietly,
sometimes without being noticed at all.

Because real love always costs something.

And that sacrifice is not about themselves—
it is an investment in the relationship.

And in a similar way, when we suffer with Christ,
we are not trying to prove something
or earn something.

We are growing in love.

We are deepening our relationship with God.


That unread message on your phone—it bothers you until you open it.

Today, Christ gives you a message to read:

His Cross.
His Resurrection.
His love.

So let Him open that message for you.

Let your heart burn.
Let your eyes be opened.

And then say with the disciples:

“Stay with us, Lord…
for it is nearly evening…
and the day is almost over.”


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