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The first disciples experienced Jesus’ resurrection not as some single triumphant fait accompli, but by fits and starts.

This is no voluntary association, no transactional contract. The sheep do not earn the shepherd or elect him.

In his collection of poems titled After the Lost War, Andrew Hudgins chronicles the life of a Confederate soldier during and just after the Civil War. In “What Light Destroys,” the soldier fondly recalls a camping trip he once took with his four sons. One particular night the boys caught fireflies, pinched them in half and smeared their fingernails with the glow of the bugs. His sons took great delight in running through the dark woods, waving their hands.

The disciples are afraid, so they lock their doors. I do the same.

Though it has long since disappeared into the electronic traces of deleted e-mail, I still cringe to remember it: my breezy appeal for an exemption from Introduction to Homiletics. I explained that as a college professor of some 20 years I was well accustomed to writing and public speaking and that I had already preached a few times in my home congregation.