Saturday

Saturday:

It must have been an uneasy Sabbath in Jerusalem. The disciples were in hiding--hopes and expectations crushed. Confused. Afraid, I'm sure, that the soldiers would be after them next. Discussing Judas, wondering why. Had they heard of his suicide? Peter lost in his own thoughts; what had he done? The way He looked on me with such concern--concern for me. Praying that I might not be destroyed by Satan! John who was at the crucifixion--could he bring himself to describe the terrible and wonderful things that he had witnessed?

The women who had been there and noted where Joseph and Nicodemus had placed His body were preparing spices to anoint the body of the one they loved who was now lost to them forever. Sobbing at times no doubt. Uncontrollably. Holding on to each other. Trying to share comfort. Was Mary in their midst or was John providing for her. She had been at the foot of the cross--where else could a mother's heart be.

And what were Nicodemus and Joseph thinking. Careers lost. Why had they waited so long, living a fearful faith, unwilling to defend Him. Would it have made a difference? Too late.

And the Roman guards? "They have us guarding the tomb of a dead man? What is Pilate afraid of? l bet it will be awhile before he has a restful night of sleep." Had some of them been on duty at the crucifixion? Did they share what they saw? Was the centurion among them? In their superstitions, paganism, and mythology were they uneasy about a man's death blotting out the sun in the middle of the day. The earthquakes--it was as if the stones were crying out.

And what was being talked about in the synagogues? What message did the teachers bring? Was anyone listening? "Did you hear? He prayed for our forgiveness." "He told one of the thieves that he would be with Him in Paradise." "Though mocked and scorned, He said nothing ill to anyone?" "Commended His spirit to God at His death." "Perhaps our greatest teacher and one of our riches citizens took Him down from the cross and buried Him. Joseph buried Him in his own newly built tomb!" And one in the back of the synagogue whispering, "He cried out that God had forsaken Him. What did that mean?" "And did you hear--the veil in the temple was ripped in half--from top to bottom!" "What have we done?"

A Sabbath like no other. Doubts, fears, more mockery I'm sure. "Who did He think He was?" The leaders of the Sanhedrin condemning Him, repeating the charges against Him over and over again. Bad mouthing Pilate and the Romans, "King of the Jews, indeed." And yet so fearful and uneasy that they wanted guards around His tomb. Was it really a band of cowering fishermen that they feared?

But the morning was coming. Guards would be visited by angels. That will have an impact on you. The Sanhedrin were told their story--and concocted a story of their own that they knew was a lie. "A bunch of fishermen over-powered the Roman cohort and stole His body." That would raise a few eyebrows. The women and the disciples confronted by an empty tomb. "Now what has happened?"

But one young man would pause, look into the empty tomb, then step in, look around in contemplation--and believe. Fears erased. Doubt turned to faith. Joy coming in the morning!

As you--in the morning--contemplate the empty tomb--Will you look and believe? "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved!" Saturday for many seemed to be the end of the story. Not so. Sunday would be the beginning of the rest of the story--the eternal story--revealing the conquering power and love of God toward those who believe.