We revere the saints of the Gospels. Matthew and Mark, Luke and John, Peter, Philip and Simon, James, Andrew, Bartholomew, and Thaddaeus.
Their courage in spreading the Word from Ukraine to Egypt and from India to Spain, and their bravery when put to death, serve as examples most of us can only hope to approach. But it comes more naturally to follow their path on Holy Saturday when Jesus lay in the tomb and his handpicked followers cowered in fear. In these times, we might prefer to look at them as if apart from us — it’s easy, as we prepare for the vigil or for Easter morning. But in truth, these are the very days when we are most like the Twelve.
On his final journey to the cross, the Apostles failed and faltered repeatedly. They’d lived in the shadow of Christ, holding his hand, hearing his words, seeing his miracles, and yet they did not understand. Worse