Overview:
Wednesday after Epiphany
A Reflection for Wednesday after Epiphany
They were completely astounded.
They had not understood the incident of the loaves.
On the contrary, their hearts were hardened.
Find today’s readings here.
Monday, Jan. 5, 2026. A truly terrible day for the employed.
Memes about the post-holiday return to the office have inundated my X feed this week. Videos of people experiencing devastating tragedy captioned “first Monday of the new year” or “me at the job I begged God for” hit especially hard after an almost two-week Christmas cookie binge from the comfort of my parents’ house.
Sure, some remote work was interspersed between Christmas movies and family visiting, but the first post-New Years monday marks the unofficial end of the holiday season. So begins the cold, dark stretch of winter laid barren without the dressings of tinsel and evergreen wreaths.
We say much about the anticipation of Advent and the Christmas season, but as soon as Dec. 26, or the day after New Years or perhaps Jan. 5 comes, there is a strange emptiness. Life after the end of the movie.
Jesus came, but now what?
Of course, there is some natural sadness (and sometimes comfort) in the endings of family visits and return to routine. Transitions are, to say the least, weird, and a bit of a holiday hangover is certainly understandable.
Still, I wish we could hold onto the joy of the holiday season longer. In fact, I think we probably should. Unto us a savior has just been born, but we immediately turn our attention to what comes next.
It is comforting to know that Jesus’ apostles were not much better than us. As we hear in Mark’s Gospel, they had just witnessed two of Christ’s most famous miracles on earth: the multiplication of the loaves and fishes, and Jesus walking on water. They experienced physical proof of his divinity that most of us could only dream of encountering.
Surely, they should be in a state of spiritual euphoria that will sustain them for a lifetime. But what is their reaction?
They are confused. Utterly gobsmacked even. Their “hardened” hearts are seemingly no closer to grasping who Christ truly is.
The apostles are like us after Christmas, having just celebrated the gift of God becoming human through the Incarnation, yet forgetting all about it the second we exit the warmth of our holiday gatherings and go back to our cubicles or wherever else we exist in Ordinary Time (although the official season does not begin until next Monday). The aforementioned X posts become sad reminders of our hardening hearts.
The Church gives us this period in the liturgical calendar to reflect on Christ’s Incarnation. The beautiful reading from John’s first epistle today explains how we come to know God, who is love, through love of others. Rather than losing the Christmas spirit, love allows us to “remain in him and he in us,” even as the feast of his birth drifts further into the past.
Let us be slow to forget the joys of the holiday season, and may they sustain us through the dark January days to come—at least until the next three-day weekend.
