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The Darkness of Saturday

  

All is lost. All is lost. We thought he was the one. We thought he would save us. We thought at long last our redemption had drawn near–that after a century of occupation we would be free, that the songs of Zion could once again be sung in a free Judah with a son of David on the throne. We had dared to dream along with him that there would be a beautiful tomorrow, a bright future when justice and peace would kiss and God’s reign would stretch forth from his holy city. When he rode into Jerusalem, we rejoiced and shouted “Hosanna,” but he did not save. Darkness fills the land and a deep darkness in our troubled hearts, for this Messiah is no more.

He was supposed to be the one. How could he not have been the one, the Son of God? He had healed the sick, cast out demons, and raised the dead. His every deed glowed with God’s boundless love toward even sinners and tax-collectors. In his ministry we saw the gospel preached to the afflicted, the brokenhearted healed, the captives freed, and the great Jubilee proclaimed in word and deed. Never had a healer opened the eyes of one who had been born blind. Never had a prophet spoken with such boldness to the crooked leaders of our time. Never had a holy man lived with such generosity and purity of heart that even prostitutes and sinners would repent at his touch. Never had a son of David been so endued with the spirit of the Lord with all wisdom and understanding, counsel and strength, knowledge and the fear of the Lord. Never had a teacher spoken with such authority and clarity, explaining the deep truths of God’s holy Scriptures through stories and actions. Never had such wisdom indwelt a man so that he could confound even the brightest scribes and lawyers of our day when they attempted to entrap him with their riddles. How could this Jesus not be the one? How could the one who raised others from the dead die himself?

But now all is lost. All is lost. For he in whom we had placed our trust, our hope, our loyalty, is now asleep in a cold dark tomb. He did not die of sickness or an accident; he was murdered–executed by a system of envy and injustice. He was tortured and whipped, ridiculed and spit upon, stripped of his dignity and hung on a cross for all to see. With his audacious claim writ large above his head in three languages, Jesus was crucified like a revolutionary or a slave. He is dead; hope is lost; and we do not know what to do. The pain is constant, our reproach unending, and our humiliation complete. We had followed a false Messiah.

Even though it is like a bone caught in our throats when we utter the words, we are compelled to admit “Jesus was not the Son of David.” He was not because he is not. Even if God was with him in his ministry, He had left him in his time of need, abandoning him to the hordes of wicked men who did with him as they pleased. We see no other possibility, for a dead Messiah is a contradiction. Our eyes are too sore to shed any more tears, our hearts too numb to feel any more pain, our minds too swamped with contradictions and absurdities to think clearly any more. Our strength is dried up and we have nowhere to go and nothing to do. We had left everything to follow him and he led us here to this Jerusalem, this dark city where all hope is dashed to pieces like a potter’s vessel. We wait for nothing. We have no more dreams, only nightmares. Our shame wells up within us like a continuous spring. All is lost. All is lost.

5 Responses to “The Darkness of Saturday”

  1. on 23 Apr 2011 at 10:37 amRon S.

    Written like a first-hand account from the Apostles after Jesus’ crucifixion and very nicely done. This had to have been what they felt on the Sabbath after he was put into the tomb.

    I hope there’s another “first-hand” report coming from a few days later! 🙂

  2. on 23 Apr 2011 at 1:03 pmSean

    Ron,

    Perhaps you would like to write one for tomorrow?

  3. on 23 Apr 2011 at 3:59 pmRay

    When Jesus was with them, he took care of everything. When they were in the wilderness with hunger, he fed them. He healed them.
    He did it all.

    But he did say that the kingdom of heaven is like a man that went on a journey didn’t he?

  4. on 23 Apr 2011 at 9:48 pmGeorge

    You put yourself in their sandels in a thought pattern that was convincing ,I often wonder what would have I done if I were in PETERS SHOES, sandels that night. thank you you have provoked me to try to see things in a different light or way.

  5. on 23 Apr 2011 at 10:57 pmRay

    I wonder why it was that Mary was taking spices to the place where Jesus was laid, so early that particular morning. What was she really thinking? Why did they come so early on that morning?
    I wonder if it was because of something Jesus had said. They talked about the fact that a huge stone had been laid over the grave but sometimes we don’t say everything we are thinking.
    I wonder what moved them that particular morning, so early. (Mark 16)

  

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