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.
We use the phrase, "It's Friday, but Sunday's coming." But Jesus first century followers didn't know that, did not live through that Saturday in joyful anticipation of a resurrection celebration. They sat in utter darkness of spirit; they were sitting in the deep shadow His death had cast across their lives.
I have always thought Friday must have been the worst day of their lives, but now I wonder if Saturday might have been even worse, as the memories crowded in and they saw Him there on the cross, dying, over and over again.
They knew it was The End, and they trembled, thinking about what was to become of each of them, the men and women marked as The Followers.
They were facing the end of life as they had known it, as they had dared to dream it would be with their King and his Kingdom, but each one was also probably looking into the face of his or her own death.
Their lives had been distilled to the bitterness of that one dark day, only to be followed by an even darker one.
I think if we want to live, like those first followers of Jesus, in the audacious reality of Jesus resurrection,-really live in it!-
need to
linger a bit longer in the truth of what life without Jesus looks like.
This Saturday between the smothering darkness and the indescribable light...
Take time to walk
a little slower.
Look back to
the darkness
of the worst
Friday ever.
Dare to inhale
all the fear
and the pain
and...ohh, the
abandonment
of.that.one.
terrible.day.
Just Pause.
Even though you know Sunday is coming, give yourself to this day's interlude of grief and loss.
Be fully present in this saddest Sabbath Saturday.