I was thinking today "I wonder what it was like on the Thursday after that first Easter"?
I randomly thought of the ending scene in Finding Nemo, where all the fish land in plastic bags in the ocean, having escaped from the tank back at the Dentist's office, only to have one ask "now what?"
I wonder if it were like that with the apostles. As more and more apparitions of the Risen Christ happen, what did they think? As their trepidatious fear was replaced with overwhelming joy, did it give them courage in this new-found Faith. As they sat together and began to recount Christ's walk among them, slowly piecing his life back together through their narrative, did they begin to recognize the Sacred?
I believe, and I trust that there was a rekindled excitement. A dance in the heart that thrilled the soul. A base recognition of an encounter with the Divine. There came a moment when the apostles just knew, without even a cognitive acceptance of that knowledge, that they had been in the presence of their Messiah.
This hope, this Faith, this joy, this same fire of love is lit and continues to burn in each of us.
For as He died, He rose from the dead.
And He goes even one more mile for us.
Travelling in the form of the simplest of bread. Bread made in a hurry, for there are Passover feasts to be seen to. Flat, wafer like bread. Simple, thoughtless almost in its construction. It becomes the most sacred, the most profound, the most weighted with the human presence. With Him.
Now are you thrilled? Good.
Leave the room, go into the streets, proclaim His name. Don't be scared by those Roman soldiers, by those cynics, by those who wish for political expediency or personal comfort to silence you. Your faith and your joy will overwhelm them. That is why He came. That is why He is here.
For we will know Him in the breaking of the bread.
And that is what is now.