Easter Saturday

I sometimes wonder what might have transpired the day after the crucifixion, on the Sabbath. Somehow I think there would have been an eerie silence around Jerusalem, but maybe not, for crucifixions were the norm when it came to someone being condemned by the powers that be. Would people have simply gone about their daily business, putting the events of the previous day out of their minds, or would they have wondered if they had done the right thing jeering at Jesus as he was condemned, and as he was led through the streets to his eventual death? 

And for his followers and family, still in shock at the brutality of it all, what did they do that day? None of the Gospels give an account of that ‘in-between’ day. Did they cower in fear, hiding behind closed doors with curtains drawn, or did they observe the Sabbath as usual? I imagine it could have been a bit of both, seeing the importance of being together, comforting each other in their grief and bewilderment at what had unfolded in the space of just a few days. 

In our times of greatest need, we don’t want someone telling us everything will be okay, because at that point everything is anything but. We don’t need words most of the time. We simply need to know someone is there for us, someone who will stick around and help us pick up the pieces when we’re ready.

 

all is lost

gather together

sit with me

 

 

 

I looked at life

on Saturday

and saw futility.

 

I saw the pantomime of politics,

intrigue

power struggles

suspicion

hatred

manipulation,

playing games with populations,

organizing the minds of men,

all from lofty isolation;

patterning people

without knowing people.

Your seeds of hate

have consumed the people,

the people you sought to save.

 

-       Philip Andrews, from The Three Days of Easter 1971