We Had Hoped

Recently, we were blessed to be leading a retreat for the priests of a certain diocese. As we were praying on the day the retreat began, the Lord brought powerfully to mind the Gospel story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus. Full disclosure, my own experience over the years is that this passage is used so often on retreats that I tend to tune it out (not a very good approach to the Word of God, I know!). All of that to say I was skeptical, or better, resistant, when it came up in prayer. “What are you bringing this to us for, Lord? What do You want to say?” As we lingered in prayer, however, the phrase that the Lord kept bringing to the fore was, “We had hoped.” 

We remember the story well, I’m sure, but a quick refresher might set the stage. It’s Easter Sunday. The women have already been to the tomb, discovered it empty, and encountered the Risen Jesus. They ran to the Apostles to tell the unthinkable, unimaginable news, but they didn’t believe them. Peter and John, then, ran to the tomb and likewise found it empty, but did not encounter Him yet. The two disciples on the road to Emmaus knew all of this. And, yet, for some reason, they’re not running to the tomb themselves to try to investigate this, or gathering with the other disciples in the upper room, or doing anything that might seem appropriate given such spectacular announcements. Instead, they’re walking to a village some seven miles from Jerusalem. They should have been running to the tomb, but instead they were walking away from it.

Jesus, as we know, meets up with them on the road, though they are prevented from recognizing Him. He enters into conversation with them and at one point asks the intentionally provocative question, “What are y’all talking about?” They stop dead in their tracks and ask Him, “Are you the only one who doesn’t know the things that happened these past few days in Jerusalem?” Jesus presses in, “What things?” 

As they recall what for them is the tragic death of Jesus of Nazareth, they utter the words I mentioned above: “We had hoped.” That is, “We had hoped He was the anointed one, the Messiah we have been longing for, the one who was going to rescue Israel from the grip and tyranny of Rome, restore the Temple, and usher in the return of the true King, the Lord God.”

Why am I mentioning all of this? Because the Lord held up those words as fitting ones for how so many priests are feeling and thinking right now. “We had hoped.” As we continued to pray, it was as if the Lord brought to mind a litany:


“We had hoped when we entered seminary…”

“We had hoped when we were approved for holy orders…”

“We had hoped when we were ordained…”

“We had hoped when we entered our first assignment…”

“We had hoped when we got out of that assignment and had a chance to start over…”

“We had hoped when we were named pastor…”

“We had hoped when we got a new bishop…”

“We had hoped when we embarked on a new campaign for evangelization…” 

“We had hoped…we had hoped…we had hoped…”


Discouragement is rampant in the Church right now among the clergy. The metrics are, well, abysmal. Laborers are few. The anti-gospel being told by the culture at large can be so strong and alluring. And the pandemic created a whole new set of challenges. 

Sure, there are many priests who are thriving in their vocation. But our experience these past three years of working with thousands of priests across the country is that morale is alarmingly low. 

But here’s the great news: just as Jesus opened the eyes of those two disciples on the road to Emmaus, so the Lord God, the Conqueror of Sin and Death, the Stronger One who has come to bind the strong man and set us free from his icy and tyrannical grip, is still showing Himself, opening our downcast, discouraged, and exhausted hearts. He wants to do this! With all of us, to be sure, but in a unique way with His broken brother priests. 

And when it happens, when we meet Him all over again for the first time, then, like the two travelers that Easter Sunday, we run back to the people and announce to them, “We have seen the Lord! He is alive! He is victorious! We do not need to be afraid! The rescue mission Jesus has sent us out on is so worth it!”

Please pray in these days for your pastor, your associate pastor, priest friends, even (especially?) priests who may have hurt you somehow. They are praying for you at every Mass they offer. They are elevating your many needs even as they elevate the Sacred Host and Chalice above the altars at your parish. They need, we need, your prayers. 

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