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Supper at Emmaus Parishioner Poem Editor's Note: Parishioner and poet, Pat Stevens suggests that we read the following scripture from Luke before reading his poem on peace in the Middle East. “13 Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14 and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15 While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16 but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17 And he said to them, "What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?" They stood still, looking sad. 18 Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, "Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?" 19 He asked them, "What things?" They replied, "The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, 20 and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21 But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. 22 Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23 and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. 24 Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him." 25 Then he said to them, "Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26 Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?" 27 Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. 28 As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 But they urged him strongly, saying, "Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over." So he went in to stay with them. 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. 32 They said to each other, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?" 33 That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. 34 They were saying, "The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!" 35 Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread. 36 While they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, "Peace be with you." 37 They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. 38 He said to them, "Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? 39 Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have." 40 And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. 41 While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, "Have you anything here to eat?" 42 They gave him a piece of broiled fish, 43 and he took it and ate in their presence. 44 Then he said to them, "These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you--that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled." 45 Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, 46 and he said to them, "Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, 47 and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. 48 You are witnesses of these things. 49 And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high." 50 Then he led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. 51 While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven. 52 And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; 53 and they were continually in the temple blessing God.” Luke 24: 13-53

SUPPER AT EMMAUS TOURISTS in 1995 Dublin at Easter time, And we are heart-sick travelers Passing the General Post Office On O’Connell and Henry Remembering Padraig Pearse And the 1916 uprising. Soon we wander into a museum And into another time and place, Face to face with Jesus at Emmaus, Serene in chiaroscuro, Blessing the bread. Cleophas and maybe Luke, Aflame with love and astonishment, Hear their Lord and Master Intone the “Baruch Atah.” Were not our hearts burning within us, Seared by this moment Of blinding, burning faith? FIRST MILE We could be Walking along today, In war-torn Judea, I an Arab, you a Jew, With a certain stranger from Jenin Refugee Camp Who explains that these things had to happen. A young girl had to blow herself up, It was written, Koran, Allah, teachers garbage, dead uncle, old deed to our land, And we have nothing. They have the Lexus, We have the dead olive tree…… Were not our hearts burning, were we not yearning for peace, enough water, less stench? SECOND MILE We talked of Medina, Mecca, Hejira, Exodus, captivity, the Sinai, Abraham our common father. Were not our hearts burning within? And the stranger spoke softly of the DNA of the soul, all matched up among us, Shalom, salaam, pax. We had not heard it this way in Torah schul, in Koran recitation, Allah the Merciful, the Compassionate, Adonai my Shepherd. THIRD MILE Our sadness as we came along From peace talks--- we had high hopes: no more suicide bombs, no more tanks, no more checkpoints, a return of respect, a forgetting of the ’48 War         the ‘67         the ‘73 were not our hearts burning. FOURTH MILE We sat down at the well of Jacob. Were we not both children of Jacob? Even Samaritans? Was the water here sacred? Was all water? Was all life? Was all DNA sacred? Were not our hearts burning? Was not Jenin burning? Was not Ramallah burning? Was not Netanya aflame with hatred At the Seder suicide bombing? FIFTH MILE We journeyed on. The stranger listened to our story to our argument And intoned the Koran the call to prayer: “Allah the Mighty, the Merciful One, Allah the Giver of Gifts--- Give peace to us; We are Jewish, We are Muslim, We are at your table; Are not our hearts on fire for your justice, For your mercy, For your peace?” Were not our hearts burning within us? SIXTH MILE How can I love the killer of my mother, the thief of my apricot orchard, the ravager of my sister’s house? How can I love the terrorist who hated me from before I was born, Who pursued me in Auschwitz and Buchenwald and Dachau, Who fired the Krupwerke ovens and scattered my bones in ashes to the wind? Were not our hearts burning with the righteous fire of vengeance, with the holy flames of jihad? But the Stranger gave us a fig to eat, some water; he looked deep into our bloodshot, smoke-filled eyes. Were not our hearts aflame with a thousand fires? SEVENTH MILE We walked in silence. It was afternoon, no shade, no trees, hot sun, hot thoughts Of all the years all the death, all the slain family. We simmered inside like a pot of lamb on the fire, no relief. We had to feel the fire. We could not leave it. We wanted the hatred. We wanted the killing. We yearned for the vengeance. Truly our hearts were burning within us. The Stranger intoned “Baruch atah Adonai,” “Blessed are you Lord God of all the Universe,” And he began the psalm of brotherhood: “How sweet and pleasant it is where brethren dwell in unity. It is like the precious oil Flowing down the beard of Aaron.” Oil---black gold, Global politics, Twin Towers where all the money from the oil ended up. Were not our hearts burning Like an oil-well fire in Kuwait, When Saddam Hussein left in anger. What dark hatred was it that started 700 fires on the black gold? Were not the Iraqui hearts burning?

Caravaggio’s Supper at Emmaus(for a larger image and more on the painting, view this page) EIGHTH MILE We journey on, speak of Gaza, remember Fustat, and Saladin, The Crusades, the final battle in Galilee, Past triumphs on both sides, Nablus, Ramallah, Baruch atah, blessed are you Creator of the wheat. We are hungry on our journey. We are burning with hunger. Our hearts are aflame. Our anger has given way to hunger. Our blood-shot eyes are dazed with the light of the sun. ARRIVAL The Stranger is not tired, He wants to journey on. He will not wait. He says: “Your Koran and your Torah Fill you with blessings. Eat your bread together, Read your holy writings, Listen with your heart, And you will know you are brothers. You eat at the same table, the same bread. We begged the Stranger not to go. He wrapped his turban round his head And made as if to go, While we stood confused at the crossroad, Longing for the inn, the food, the drink, the repose, our hearts within us burning. But we could not take our eyes off the Stranger. we begged him to stay to dine, to talk with us. We saw in his eyes All the smoke and fire, All the explosions, the grief, the anguish, and the pity, the burning heart of pity For the black bodies, the stench of Auschwitz, of Netanya, of Jenin, of Jerusalem, city of peace. We begged him to talk more, to dine with us, to break bread. His eyes, worlds of wisdom, smiled at us, scowled at us; Our hearts were on fire. “Tell us,” we said, “tell us what will happen.” “My brothers,” he said in Arabic and in Hebrew, “Do not be afraid. Nothing is lost. All will be restored. If earth becomes a nuclear desert And all die, We will find one another, We will see the one Paradise, And your burning hearts cannot imagine What music is there, what fragrance is there.” THE MEAL And our hearts burned as we ate his words. He led us to the hospice, We sat down, He broke the bread and blessed Adonai-Allah. With a deep moan he sang and begged a blessing on us, and told us to eat to drink, to talk, to joke to dance, to love, to dream dreams, to see visions, to go back to Jerusalem And live like brothers And eat bread together forever. And were not our hearts burning within us? Did not the hunger fade away as we ate and drank? Did not the hatred slowly turn to anger, and then to thoughtfulness, and on to the quiet chemistry of contemplation? As we ate bread and satisfied our thirst, Our past was still our past, Our families were still dead, and Jenin was still in ruins. Yet if our hearts can burn within us At a vision of Paradise together, Why not seize that vision now, Why not grasp the future, Let go of the past? DEPARTURE The stranger left us, vanished from our sight, and we hurried back to Jerusalem, each to our own sector. We tried to tell our vision, but no one would listen. We could change nothing, yet we were forever changed, Because we allowed our hearts to blaze with blessing. We stood by the fire and felt the hot flame of brother/sisterhood, Let our eyes fill with smoke and be nearly blind, And we will never be the same, For our hearts will ever burn within us. Pat Stevens Easter 2002

Pat Stevens has been at St Joan of Arc for 30+ years, was first Executive Director of Trust in 1970, taught Humanities and foreign languages for 12 years, has been a real estate broker for 25 years with his wife Irene Taddiken. They have 11 grandkids. Pat studied philosophy and theology at St. Paul Seminary, Greek Drama and Classical Languages at Yale. He is a Prayer Partner at SJA and is on the Affordable Housing Committee.