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Every year I wake up on Easter Monday morning and wonder how the people closest to Jesus felt on the morning after the most shocking event of their lives. Did they finally get a good night’s sleep after such a restless weekend, or had they stayed up all night debating the meaning of the resurrection? Were they confident of seeing Jesus again, or still caught by surprise every time he showed up? It’s hard to imagine what those first couple of days must have been like for them.

And what are they like for us? Does the passing of Easter mean nothing more than freedom from our Lenten pledges, or the end of a holiday, or a chance to try new recipes with boiled eggs before they go bad?

I hope we’ll spend some time on the day after Easter thinking about what resurrection means on every other day. How is my life different because Christ arose? How are my hopes for the future different? How does the reality of Easter impact my present actions, my state of mind, my decision-making?

If we are resurrection people, how can others tell?

How long will the flowers last?

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