By now all of the apostles and the women who had followed Jesus would have gathered together in that same room where the Passover had been celebrated. No celebration now, only a mind-numbing emptiness as they struggled to understand the inexplicable.
How could he die?
Was this all there was after all those years of ministry and learning? The promise of what seemed a heralding of a new kingdom was now ashes and dust. How were they to go on? When would the same religious zealots who had taken their beloved teacher come for them?
Fear, darkness, hopelessness…
We look back on these huddled, shivering men and women in the light of what we know from Scripture and just shake our heads. Where is there faith? How could they have missed the warnings Jesus gave them, but also the promise of his resurrection?
Are we then so very different?
Whenever tragedy strikes our family when things don’t go according to what we thought they should, do we keep our eyes focused on God’s promises that are all yes and Amen in Messiah?
Life, this life we live will be filled with days similar to that one Saturday.
Hopelessness, despair, grief will flood our souls and leave us bereft of any joy. We far too often are ignorant of how God is working as he was on that Saturday; we close our eyes to his possible and cling to our impossible. We embrace our misery as if a friend when our true friend stands waiting with arms open wide.
It’s Saturday, but Sunday is coming…