We keep waiting to wake up one morning with it all finally figured out. No one ever does. We learn this the way we learned to walk — by hitting the floor, repeatedly, and getting back up. Turns out the floor has a few things to teach that staying upright never could.
For three years they had the closest seat in the room — the miracles, the private explanations, every day at his side. And the Gospels are oddly honest that they understood almost none of it. Not before the cross. Not even after the empty tomb. So when did they finally understand — and where does that leave the rest of us?