The story of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-35) is one of the most tender and instructive passages in the Gospels. Two followers of Jesus, downcast, confused, and walking away from Jerusalem, they find their hopes shattered by the crucifixion. “We were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel,” they confess, their eyes fixed on the ground. Then the risen Lord draws near, walks with them unrecognized, listens to their grief, reframes their story through the Scriptures, and is finally recognized “in the breaking of the bread.” Their hearts burn within them, and they race back to the community as witnesses.
For leaders at every level in the Church, bishops, priests, deacons, lay staff, catechists, and pastoral ministers, this narrative is not merely a resurrection account; it is a blueprint for pastoral ministry. It reveals how to accompany those who are disheartened, lost, or confused in their relationship with Christ and His Church. It also offers leaders a mirror for their own spiritual growth, so they can model the very encounter they seek to facilitate in others.
Effective pastoral care begins not with answers but with presence.
Pastoral Approach: Walking with the Disheartened
The Emmaus road teaches that effective pastoral care begins not with answers but with presence. Jesus does not wait for the disciples to return to Jerusalem or to “get their theology straight.” He meets them where they are, on the road, heading in the wrong direction, hearts heavy with disappointment. Church leaders today are called to do the same: to step out of the sacristy or the office and walk alongside those who feel the Church has failed them, whose faith has been wounded by scandal, cultural pressure, personal sin, or simply the silence of God in their suffering. Accompaniment is not passive; it is intentional. It says, “I see you. I will walk with you.”
First, listen without rushing to correct. Jesus asks a simple, open question: “What are you discussing as you walk along?” He lets Cleopas and his companion pour out their confusion, their dashed hopes, even their faint rumors of the empty tomb. Too often, well-meaning leaders jump to solutions or doctrinal corrections before the person feels truly heard. Pastoral wisdom from Emmaus demands that we first create space for the story to be told, without judgment, without defensiveness. Only after listening do we earn the right to speak.
Then, gently reframe through Scripture. Jesus does not scold; He teaches: “Oh, how foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke!” Beginning with Moses and all the prophets, He shows how the Messiah had to suffer and enter glory. For those confused about their relationship with Christ and the Church, leaders must become skilled interpreters of the Word, helping people see their pain, their questions, even their doubts within the larger story of salvation. This is not proof texting; it is helping hearts burn again by revealing Christ as the fulfillment of every longing.
Finally, invite others to table and mission. The disciples urge the stranger to stay. At the meal, Jesus takes, blesses, breaks, and gives the bread, echoing the Last Supper and anticipating every Eucharist. Recognition happens not in abstract argument but in sacramental encounter. Leaders should therefore lead people toward the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, where Christ is truly present. Once eyes are opened, the natural movement is outward: the two return “at once” to Jerusalem, sharing what they have seen. Pastoral care on the Emmaus model always ends in sending, transforming the disheartened into joyful witnesses who strengthen the community.
This threefold rhythm, listen, teach (through Scripture), send, has become a touchstone for Catholic pastoral frameworks precisely because it mirrors how Jesus Himself evangelizes. It is patient, respectful, hopeful, and tireless qualities the Church desperately needs when engaging those on the margins of faith.
We do not merely manage programs or maintain institutions—we become living icons of the Good Shepherd.
Concrete Practices for Leaders’ Own Spiritual Growth—and Modeling
If leaders are to accompany others on their Emmaus roads, they must first walk their own daily. The story invites three concrete, repeatable practices that deepen personal communion with Christ and become visible models for those entrusted to our care.
Cultivate a listening heart through daily Scripture prayer. Just as Jesus opened the Scriptures to the disciples, leaders must let the Scriptures be opened to them. Set aside time each day for lectio divina, slow, prayerful reading of the Gospels, especially the resurrection narratives. Ask the same question the disciples implicitly asked: “Were not our hearts burning within us while he spoke?” Journal the insights, the resistances, the consolations. When leaders speak of Scripture not as a textbook but as a living encounter that sets their own hearts ablaze, those they serve will sense authenticity. Model this by occasionally sharing, in homilies or small-group settings, a recent “burning heart” moment from your prayer.
Encounter Christ regularly in the breaking of the bread and linger there. The disciples recognized Jesus in the Eucharist. Leaders must be people of deep Eucharistic devotion: not only celebrating or attending Mass faithfully, but spending time in adoration, letting the same Lord who vanished from the disciples’ sight remain with them in the tabernacle. This practice roots us in humility, recognizing that we, too, can fail to see Christ right in front of us. When people observe a leader who speaks of the Eucharist with reverence and hunger, they are drawn to the same source of strength. Encourage staff or parish teams to share their own “recognition” stories around the Eucharist; vulnerability here fosters authentic community.
Practice humble, unrecognized service and then return to the community. Jesus walked as a stranger, without demanding recognition. Leaders can adopt a similar posture: serve quietly in ordinary tasks, visiting the sick, listening to a staff member’s frustration, coaching a volunteer without needing to be seen as the expert. Then, like the disciples who raced back to Jerusalem, they regularly return to the larger body of the Church to give and receive encouragement. Join formation programs, retreats, or peer groups for clergy and lay leaders. By modeling ongoing conversion, admitting your own moments of discouragement and how Christ met you there, you give permission for others to do the same.
In an age when many feel the Church is distant or irrelevant, the Emmaus road reminds every leader that the risen Christ is already on the move, drawing near to the discouraged, walking beside the confused, and waiting to be recognized in Word and Sacrament. Our task is not to manufacture encounters but to remove the obstacles, to walk attentively, and to trust that the same Lord who opened the disciples’ eyes will open the eyes of those we serve. When we ourselves live this pattern, listening, teaching, sending, we do not merely manage programs or maintain institutions. We become living icons of the Good Shepherd who seeks the lost, walks with the weary, and turns sorrow into mission. The road to Emmaus, is after all, not a one-time event two thousand years ago. It is the road every disciple walks today, and every leader is called to walk it first.
Deacon Patrick Stokely
Saints Peter and Paul Parish
West Chester, PA
