Monsignor Enrique Díaz Díaz shares with Exaudi readers his reflection on the  Gospel of this Sunday, April 19, 2026,   entitled:  “ Friend on the journey ”.

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Acts of the Apostles 2:14, 22-23:  “It was not possible for death to hold him in its power.”

Psalm 15:  “Teach me, Lord, the path of life”

1 Peter 1:17-21:  “You have been redeemed with the precious blood of Christ, the spotless lamb.”

Luke 24:13-35:  “They recognized him in the breaking of the bread”

The road to Emmaus is similar to the journey of all humanity and of each individual. If we look back on our lives, it won’t be difficult to recognize ourselves in those two pilgrims who, dejected and in pain, make the most difficult decision: to acknowledge their failure and abandon everything. Their hopes were so great, they had forged so many dreams, everything seemed so beautiful… and now it all came to nothing:  “We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel .” Yes, they had hoped, but now they were left without illusions. It even seems like the story of our people and our communities, and it even seems like the personal story of each one of us. We have all felt, at certain times, the disappointment of an ideal or of proposals that we believed were the solution and the only truth. But then, when adversity and failure appear, when we have to change our criteria, when the cross and the wounds of the Crucified appear, we become disillusioned and run the risk of abandoning everything: the ideal, the effort, and even the community itself. What paths have I taken my failures and my sorrows down? What projects have I abandoned because, although good, they didn’t turn out the way I expected? Have I abandoned my fight for the truth because I’ve encountered lies?

When I have suffered failure, when all seems lost, when even my closest friends have abandoned me and life has no meaning, when I have taken the path of retreat and desertion, Jesus appears. He is the true friend on the journey. Silently, without making a sound, he descends into my frustrations and my miseries. When I feel utterly lost and completely defeated, Jesus goes there and matches his pace with my faltering steps. He doesn’t question, he doesn’t accuse, he simply accompanies. His incarnation is a drawing near to the person who suffers and has failed. His incarnation, present and ever-present, is his serene presence that approaches the one who has abandoned, disappointed, all hope. After walking together, he converses, listens, attends. He doesn’t condemn. In the end, he offers the way back, the path of hope: listening to the Word, approaching a table, and sharing the same bread. Word, closeness, and sharing life and bread heal wounds and revive faith. It is the same process he uses with each one of us.

To face a world of darkness and despair, we have Jesus who walks the path with us. We have his Word that comes to illuminate the darkest realities. We have his companionship under the same roof and facing the same risks. Ultimately, he becomes bread that nourishes, strengthens, and restores the community. Jesus’ path leads to a “house-community” that does not leave the stranger exposed to the dangers of the night. There, the table is set for men and women who are no longer slaves but sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, and witnesses to life. The disciples’ blind eyes were opened, and they were able to recognize him in the breaking and sharing of the bread. For bread broken and shared creates community. He himself becomes bread, and this, which may seem beautiful and even poetic, is not easy at all, but rather very demanding and risky: it means not living for oneself, but for others, giving oneself up to strengthen, breaking oneself to unite, dying to give life. And there, in the bread, the disciples recognize him, and there they remember his words that set their hearts ablaze, and there they understand that there can be no true death where there is so much love. And then they are filled with boldness, and they no longer care that night is falling: they must return to rebuild the community.

With the disciples of Emmaus, let us also let our hearts burn with the love of the risen Jesus, let us be filled with hope, and let us follow in the footsteps of the pilgrim of Emmaus. We cannot remain unmoved and cold. Today, we will also encounter men and women on the road who once set out with enthusiasm and who have now lost all hope: the migrants who dreamed of a few cents that would free them from debt, hunger, and want; the young people drowning in despair because they can find neither work nor educational opportunities, whose lives are limited to mere survival, who lose all hope, and who become easy prey for drugs, drug trafficking, apathy, and indifference. The married couples who, amidst celebrations and promises, hoped to find easy happiness and who return alone… there are so many who wander alone along the road. There are many “disciples” who are among us, who wanted to live our faith and who have since been left without hope, without joy, without God. And it is our commitment to bring the news of life and proclaim the resurrection. We cannot preach a truncated gospel that ends in death and failure; we cannot proclaim an easy gospel that only has hallelujahs and miracles. We proclaim a gospel that gives life by passing through the pain and suffering of service to the poor. Our announcement and our proclamation must be accompanied by actions that commit our lives; we need to be bread that is broken, that nourishes, that strengthens, that fills with hope. By walking alongside those who suffer and sharing a table, fraternity is born. What witness are we giving to the Risen Christ?

Lord Jesus, who become our companion on the journey, who encourage sad hearts, who become the broken bread and give us hope and joy, fill our hearts with the joy of your Resurrection and grant that we may encounter you on the path of every man and woman, and share with them our bread and our hope. Amen.