Background Passage: Luke 23:56
Jesus is dead. Hurriedly buried in a borrowed tomb. Now, it is Saturday of Passion Week. Sabbath day on the Jewish calendar.
It is pure speculation on our part. It is not, however, hard to imagine the turmoil of the disciples and the handful of Jesus followers in the hours after his death on the cross.
One by one, those brave enough to venture to Golgotha peeled away, leaning on each other for support. Some went their separate ways. Others huddled together in a room, isolated in fear, burdened by grief.
All we know of Jesus’ followers actions on the day after Jesus’ death is found in one simple verse.
“Then they went home and prepared spices and perfumes. But they rested on the Sabbath in obedience to the commandment.” (Luke 23:56)
I don’t know about you, but the death of a loved one is unsettling. In the best of times, there is a measure of reflective memories of good times shared together. When the loved one fell victim of a particularly difficult death, there is a lingering replay of every image of the last moments…real and imagined.
How could it have been any different for the disciples of Jesus or for these women who loved him?
I suspect many of them followed Jesus to Calvary, pushing their way through a jeering crowd, hoping against hope that this was just a horrible dream. They saw him fall beneath the weight of the cross, weak from the scourging he just endured. They watched the soldiers viciously manhandle him as they stripped him of his clothes and nailed him to the cross. They could not turn away as he hung from the cross, watching each agonizing breath until it was finished.
Now, in the darkness of the evening, they replayed all those images in their minds over and over again. Through the night they could not shake those images. They could not shake the despair.
When Sabbath dawn broke that next morning, they abandoned all pretense of the sleep that never came. I imagine them looking to one another as they picked at their breakfast. “What now?”
In a telling moment, when their hearts were heavy with grief, fear and despair, they had every reason to abandon their faith. After all, the one in whom they had placed their trust was gone. But, when they were lost and as hopeless as they had ever been…despite the horrific memories…scripture says they observed the Sabbath.
They did in that moment what they did with Jesus every Sabbath he was with them. They stayed true to what Jesus taught them. They read God’s word. They prayed. They honored God.
I like that. It’s probably worthy of our attention. They honored God. They honored their memory of Jesus by doing what he would have done.
A week of study brought us to the foot of the cross. On this day between the cross and the empty tomb, perhaps it’s good that we remember the suffering of Jesus as a demonstration of the incredible love of God to send his son to die for us.
But even as we remember the horror, we honor God by our worshipful spirits on this day and our knowledge that the darkness of that night made the light of his resurrection shine that much brighter.
Via Delarosa by Lea Salonga, 2011