The paradigm of their hopes and dreams-the wave of wonder they had ridden into the city days before, to the rhythm of "Hosanna" - had shifted, shattered, and their hearts were pierced by the fragments of their broken dreams.
If they heard, "It is finished," they didn't grasp the meaning dripping from that marred mouth. They only knew their own terrible loss.
It was finished. He was gone.
Life as they had hoped it would be faded to black.
Only one sentence in Luke 23:56 describes that Saturday, "On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment..." and even this verse seems to to be describing the women who were waiting for their chance to live their love for Him one more time by spice and ointment lovingly applied.
The silence regarding the other followers, "the Twelve," is deafening. Perhaps it was for them a day even darker than the one before, if that were possible. As they rested, the reality of Friday's darkness must have settled over them like a shroud.
In many "Christian circles," the Saturday of Easter weekend has become a day of reprieve from the gloom of "Good Friday" if we have even paused to consider the depth of that dark day. When Saturday dawns, with golden sunrise and spring green glory blanketing the warming hills, our minds turn to Sunday, because we know what is next. We hear the phrase, "It's Friday, but Sunday's coming."
I think if we want to live in the audacious reality of Jesus resurrection, -really live in it!- we might need to linger a bit longer in the truth of what life without Jesus looks like.
I think Saddest Sabbath Saturday is a holy day worth considering.
Look back to the darkness of Good Friday.
Dare to inhale the fear and pain and abandonment of that terrible day.
Pause.
Be fully present in this saddest Sabbath Saturday.