Tuesday after Easter

  Tuesday after Easter             continued from here

“She’s right?” Uncle Albert is almost sure of it. He is agreeing with Roz’s summary of the Easter Sunday sermon though she didn’t go to church any more than he did.
     “As far as I remember,” I say. But she doesn’t catch the sadness of Resurrection Day — not that the sermon did either. God works on the level of the stars; He creates myth as he does the lights of the night sky: by His word alone. According to which His Son dies — he is killed! — on Friday; and He raises Him on Sunday. But on the level of earth and even air: How many die — how many are killed! — on Friday? And one is raised.
     It takes a day or two for that sadness, that lack of faith, to penetrate, but by Tuesday I am wondering how Easter works below the firmament? Truly? Christ is risen indeed, but what about the rest of us?

 04.18.22