The 'Jesus' encounter for the two disciples was truly conversion experience. Metanoia or conversion is a gospel imperative. Following Jesus is being urged to turn around, to change our ways, to risk taking a step, go out on a limb and get off the beaten track. The invitation to conversion is rather unnerving. At times (as in the case of the two disciples), we may even be oblivious to such an invitation. We are safe in our securities, bounded by the walls that keep out the unknown fear that surrounds us. Discipleship moves us into uncharted waters, to travel along the off-beaten track and unpaved by-roads without compass or maps, only God. Frankly, we are not always sure about God or about His presence. We seem to be walking alone. 

In the Emmaus story, Jesus asked the two downcast disciples what was troubling them. Before he offered an explanation of the passion or even dramatically revealed himself at the breaking of bread, he drew out their stories. We all need to tell stories. We all need to listen to stories.  Stories present life as an unfolding of events, happy or sad or paradoxical. The "once upon a time" theme recalls the journey with its hills, paths, valleys and passages to new places in our life. The story of life goes on, it is always being told, it is a never-ending story. Our own life story is greatly enriched if we pass over to other people's stories, not in judgement, but in compassion. We can then return to our own story with new insights. We can marvel at how the mysterious Lord of the Journeys has been with us on the way. To remember our story is an invitation in faith. In remembering our story, we stand with the memories of many caring and loving people. We remember too the pain of rejection and hurts, which constitute many pages of our biography. Remembering is a time of grace if we try to say 'yes' to its mystery. 
 

One of the greatest joys of walking with someone is simply the enjoyment of his presence.  The gift of presence is a simple but profound dimension of spirituality of pastoral care. We are present to another by listening, by observing, by sharing or by our silence. Sometimes we don't need words to be present, just being together is enough to express companionship. It's like that with God. At times we pray, say psalms, sing, dance, participate in the sacraments, at other times we just sit and be still, or merely take a leisurely walk, allowing the Presence to fill our being. Presence does not intend to capture another emotionally or intellectually, it is content to be about, to waste time, to allow the other to feel respected in resting from having to speak or work. Perhaps the highest compliment a person might pay to a companion and friend would be that he or she 'used to be about with us when we were doing nothing.' 

The world is littered with superhighways which in turn are congested with a variety of fast efficient modes of transportation to make travelling easier, faster and more comfortable. I must confess that I often prefer the comfort of travelling inside an air-conditioned vehicle to that of walking in the dusty, sweltering heat of the tropical sun. Yet there are many hidden by-ways and dirt tracks that are best traveled on foot and in the company of a faithful companion. These 'alternative routes' are scattered all over the world. They can be much harder to find. You must learn to know them by the way you feel. I can tell that I've found one of these paths because time stands still there, like treading water, like the "breaking of bread", when one recognises that one is not alone. My wish is that you too will find these special paths. Once you embark upon your journey, willing to walk the way of the heart, you too may meet a stranger or two, fall in step, and end up hearing the story burning to be told in the depths of your heart.