The setting sun ushers in a High Holy Day for the Jews in Jerusalem as they celebrate both Sabbath and the Feast of Unleavened Bread. Fathers in homes throughout the city regale their children with tales of their ancestors’ miraculous exodus from Egypt long ago.

The forced rest provides much time for reflection and quietness. Even the simplest tasks are left undone, and all of the market stalls owned by Jews have closed until the sun sets tomorrow afternoon. In obedience, both pilgrims who’ve come to Jerusalem for Passover and those who live here join together to keep the Sabbath Day holy.

Not everyone rests, however. A small group of women huddle together in one home, consumed with sadness at the events they have witnessed over the past several hours. Every now and then someone asks Mary of Magdala to describe once again what she saw at the tomb owned by the priest named Joseph. Through the long night, no one even thinks of trying to sleep.

The men who once followed Christ mourn His death in a room upstairs. It is a sorrowful Sabbath indeed for these whose hope resided in Jesus the Teacher. How they grieve. What must they feel? Hopelessness? Disillusionment? Fear? Anger? Does the thought of a future without their beloved Master riddle them with anxious fears? Do they second-guess the trust they once had, feeling foolish at their gullibility? Or are they simply numb with shock?

Several members of the Sanhedrin have spent the night hours gathered in the temple, discussing concerns about the crucified Carpenter. Fearing that Jesus will become more of a hero in death than He was in life, Caiaphas decides to go to Pilate and demand action.

The procurator, already weighed down with weariness, is put off when the priests arrive. Hasn’t he done everything these zealots want? Why are they bothering him now? Again and again last night he awoke sweating from a nightmare in which his hands were covered with blood and his wife was screaming at him.

He enters the courtyard, beckoning for Caiaphas to approach. “What is it?”

“Sir, we have been talking and we remember that the deceiver Jesus, when He was still alive, said He would rise again after three days. Of course we don’t believe this foolishness, but we are concerned that His disciples might come and steal the body. Then they would tell all our people that He did rise, and things will be worse than when He was alive.”

Pilate watches the influential religious leader. He can hardly stand the man with his oily tongue and false humility. But suddenly he is tired of dealing with him. “You may have your guard—go with them and make the grave as secure as you can.”

The priests accompany the contingent of Roman soldiers to Joseph’s tomb where a stone is already in place. One pulls it back, ducking inside to make sure the body is still there. After securing the tomb to their satisfaction, the priests leave the guards in place, returning to the temple for Sabbath sacrifices.

Within the dark bowels of a grave, the empty frame of Jesus rests. But all is not as it seems. While disheartened followers grieve and Pharisees breathe sighs of relief, the Spirit of Christ moves throughout the cosmos, crashing through Hades’ gates to proclaim victory over sin and death. In the pit of hell, fallen angels rage at the Son of God, who lives after all.

There has never been another Sabbath Day like this one. Mary and the others, as women are wont to do, channel their pain into plans for embalming the body of Christ. Religious leaders conduct Passover rituals, and distraught disciples disappear from sight. But all the while, the Lord of the Sabbath prepares for the event that will soon send shock waves around the world and change forever the course of history.

Respond

Spend some time imagining the thoughts and feelings of Jesus’ followers on this day. Apparently, they had no remembrance or understanding of Jesus’ promises concerning His resurrection. All they knew was what they saw in front of them. Can you imagine the despair? The darkness? The lonely ache in their guts? Try to imagine what it would be like during this time, to not have a clue that something wonderful was about to break into your horror.

Thank God for the reality of His presence through His Spirit in your life. Experience His commitment to live within you, and work through you. Enjoy the truth that He has chosen you, that He longs for you and loves to commune with you. Rest for a time with these thoughts.

A Prayer

Mighty Jesus—whirling in Spirit throughout the universe, proclaiming victory while Your followers mourn. I see myself in them, Lord—embracing the dance of death, while You declare life. I long to live in the realm where You move and work, though hope seems sealed up in tombs. Teach me, Almighty God, the assurance of things not seen, the confidence of things hoped for—the secret of resurrection faith.

Reprinted by permission. Contemplating the Cross: a Forty Day Pilgrimage of Prayer, Tricia McCary Rhodes, 2004, Thomas Nelson, Inc., Nashville, Tennessee. All rights reserved. Copying or using this material without written permission from the publisher is strictly prohibited and in direct violation of copyright law.

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