“Father, I just need someone to talk to.” In my experience, this is how most pleas for help begin—a simple, desperate need to release the heavy burdens of life. It is deeply unsettling and heartbreaking whenever people ask me why it seems as though God isn’t listening—why they continue to face trials despite giving their best and trying to fix everything. They ask why their own siblings are the ones tearing them down, and why it is so difficult to be kind when relatives only respond with deceit. These questions are truly heavy with sorrow.
Yet, I feel an even deeper sadness—a kind that often leaves me almost speechless—when I encounter children going through immense struggles with so many questions about life. They ask why they feel utterly alone, without anyone on their side. They wonder why they are always seen as wrong or why their parents continue to hurt them. “Father, is suicide a sin?” they ask. “Because my parents don’t notice me and I’m bullied at school, I sometimes hurt and wound myself.”
My brothers and sisters, with so many negative things surrounding and suffocating us, it is difficult to find a way out of our problems. It is blinding; it makes it hard to breathe. This is why we sometimes try to escape our lives by turning our attention toward other people or things. It would be a blessing if those coping mechanisms were positive, but the tragedy comes when they become negative. We end up hurting others, our families, and even ourselves, yet we remain unable to face the problem or find a solution.
This was exactly what the followers of Jesus did. They followed Him because of His miracles, hoping He was the Messiah. But when Jesus was crucified and died, they fled Jerusalem for Emmaus, a quiet place where they could try to forget the tragedy. They walked with intense disappointment, talking over everything that had happened. In their grief, they are much like many of us in our times of trouble.
When Jesus approached and questioned the two travelers, they could only say, “We had hoped He was the one.” They had expectations that were not met; they hoped and were disappointed. Like us, they had prayers and solemn requests, perhaps even “negotiating” with God just to be heard, only to see those dreams go unfulfilled. It is discouraging and painful; the urge to run away from that sadness is strong.
But this is the central message of the “Road to Emmaus,” as Pope Francis calls it: You are not alone. In the midst of sadness, failure, and intense trials, you are not alone. Even if your dreams and requests repeatedly fall through, there is One who will repeatedly lift you up whenever you stumble. Why? Because He is with you. He journeys with us on the road of sorrow. Christ may be there in a friend, a spouse, a parent, a sibling, an old classmate, or even the person who lends a hand or shares a moment of conversation. He is there in the Mass, the Bible, the priests, and even in the inspirational videos we see on social media. The Lord says, “Cast your burdens upon me and I will give you rest.”
Jesus can use many sources to make us feel that, in the darkness of our lives, we do not need to escape or harm ourselves—because the self we hurt is deeply loved by God. He will always accompany you to your Emmaus. And once we realize that we have found strength because Christ is alive in our lives, we can return to our “Jerusalem”—the place we fled from—ready to face the trials we couldn’t face before. As Pope Francis said, “Even if we do not see or notice it, God will not stop loving us. God will journey with us always, always—even in the most painful moments, the worst moments, and the moments of defeat. The Lord is there. And this is our hope. Because He is beside us, and He is with us on the journey. Forever.”
