For the disciples, Sabbath was a time of quiet thinking and deep frustration. “Was it something we did?” they wondered as they walked back through their time with Jesus. They had been so certain that He was The One, The Messiah, The Coming King. But now he was gone. In Joseph’s tomb. Dead. Needing to be embalmed.
 
For the priestly leaders, Sabbath was a time of worry and anger. They, and their henchmen, had pounding headaches. The crucifixion had gone as planned, but Jesus had died far more quickly than they had expected. It was as if he had understood their plans and chosen to leave on his own terms. Yes, he had died, but along with his last breath the sky had thundered, the earth had quaked, and sky-voices had clearly proclaimed him to be the Messiah. Those voices still echoed in their minds, leaving their lips dry with terror. How they hated him! How could he do this to THEM!
 
For Pilate, the feeble but powerful judge, Sabbath was a day of constant interruptions. The priests came demanding that a special guard be placed at the tomb, “in case the disciples try to steal the body.” The centurion called to describe the prisoner’s death, how he had died quickly, how the spear in his side had drawn blood and water, and how his voice and The Sky Voice had talked as if they were Father and Son. His wife came by several times, still condemning him for sending Jesus to the cross. Today should have been a victory day, but everything was going all wrong!
 
For the temple moneychangers, Sabbath was like any other Passover Sabbath, except that today there were hordes of pilgrims demanding to see Jesus so he could heal their sick friends. “As if we could do anything about their broken bones and smelly sores,” they mumbled to each other above the chaos of bleating sheep and bawling bulls.
 
For those pilgrims, Sabbath was a day of confusion. They had come to see Jesus, but he was missing. They had come to honor God, but the temple veil no longer hid The Divine from them. The thick veil had been shredded, showing that the Most Holy Place – where the priests said God lived – was empty. “Has God left us?” they wondered. “Why isn’t he here?”
 
For the women, Mary, Mary, Mary and the others, Sabbath was prayer day. “You brought him to us, Father, and now you have taken him from us. Please, know we love him and want to have him here. However, if you need him somewhere else, please grant us his peace and healing.”
 
For Nicodemus and Joseph, two followers who had carried Him to the tomb, Sabbath was a day of expectation. “He said he would return,” they smiled to each other. “Tomorrow should be quite a day!”
 
For Jesus, Sabbath was a day of rest. For the inhabitants of Heaven, Sabbath was a day of eager waiting, as if a chrysalis was about to burst with Glory!

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