There are a number of them, known because of their connection with Jesus. The Marys. Mother, friends, supporters, loved ones. Of all the disciples, they seem closest to the action over this weekend. I have some questions they might be able to answer.
How did you feel when all that you had treasured in your heart turned to dust on that Friday afternoon?
What was it like to prepare for burial the One who had raised your brother from death? What did you think as you watched Him whom you knew to be Life die?
Where did you get the strength and courage to stand there all day Friday? Was John a good son?
What did you do on Saturday? Were you able to stop weeping? Even for a moment?
What was it like to bring the perfume to anoint his body for burial for the second time in a week?
Was the tomb kind of warm? Or did it glow? Or vibrate? Did you recognize either angel? Do any of the soldiers kind of look at you sideways?
What did He look like that morning - so different that you did not recognize Him? Was it shock, or a lack of expectation that kept you from seeing? Or was He somehow . . . different?
What was in your name when He spoke it?
How did the men respond when you told them what you had been doing - and seen - that Sunday morning?
Did you ever feel like just slapping Thomas silly?
Was the sunrise different the next day?
How was life different on Monday morning? Have you been able to stop laughing and smiling? Even for a moment?
Do you still look expectantly at every closed door?