There are so many things to say about the Emmaus story, but I am thinking this afternoon about how it feels not to be recognized, to be treated, for all intents and purposes, as invisible. What is it like to find yourself in a place where the people who should know who you are cannot see you AS you are or identify the qualities that make you, well, YOU?
Jesus, of course, had been changed in some way.
And perhaps Cleopas and friend could not recognize him because of that change or simply because they wouldn't have expected to see him.
I'm afraid I'm at risk of identifying too closely with Jesus here, so let me turn it around. Who am I looking at and not seeing, truly seeing? I want to spend some time thinking about that.