It's remarkable how many people introduce themselves to me on Easter Sunday as members of the parish. I've been here three months and have never seen them before. The word "member" has broad meaning, apparently.
Note that if you speak to me after the liturgy that I'm only staying awake at this point out of propriety and politeness. My fatigue shut off my brain after the sermon.
On Good Friday, in the quiet of the meditative liturgy, I often notice for the first time a subtle and beautiful architectural feature in the church.
I run on so much adrenaline during Holy Week that the day after Easter Sunday [which is called Easter Monday] I feel as if I have a hangover. I'm told that's consistent with adrenaline poisoning, but that diagnosis wasn't from a physician. It was from a guy I was sitting next to on the subway.
"Now that Easter's over [it's not over for fifty days, but whatevs], are you taking some time off?"
"Sort of. I have a colonoscopy on Wednesday."