I'm trying to get my head around what happened on Easter Monday.
I don't know about you, but the morning after a wedding party I usually feel kinda subdued and quiet.
The usual suspects misbehaved, the usual aunts tut-tutted, too much was eaten and drank, and the happy couple left for the honeymoon.
The disciples had had a rough and exilerating weekend. On Thursday they were all together eating the Passover, and four days later one had commited suicide, and their teacher and master had been executed while they ran like cowards, or worse denied that they knew Him. And then the miraculous happened: the tomb was empty and on the first day of the week Jesus appeared among them, and in one instant the funeral turned into a wedding feast.
So what about Monday and the days following: Well we know that two walked to Emmaus, but what about the Apostles. Not distinguished by their courage, or their intellect but by the fact that Jesus called and they answered, the Apostles were blessed with a number of appearances of Jesus as He ate with them and taught them. However, the bridegroom was to leave soon and we know that 11 of the twelve went on to be martyred. They had started their lives with Christ as followers, now they were to be leaders. Reality set in.
In the same way that the wedding night morphs into nights spent rocking, and feeding and cleaning new born babies, the joy of the Apostles became the reality of taking the message of Christ into the world and nurturing and protecting the new Church.
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