“On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb.” Luke 24:1. See also John 19:38-42.
There is nothing worse than waiting. You’re caught in that in between time. For those who loved Jesus it was made far worse by Sabbath rules and regulations. They had rushed his body into a tomb provided by Joseph of Arimathea, but really it was far from satisfactory. Joseph and Nicodemus had done their best to bury Jesus according to Jewish customs – but seriously, you don’t want men managing these things…
Not that any of them had the advantage of prior warning. This had been no slow lingering death allowing plenty of preparatory time for the inevitable. This had been violent and gruesome and staggering in its injustice and speed.
They had gone with Jesus to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. Some celebration! It was the stuff of nightmares as they watched the script shift. One day the crowd was shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” Well that didn’t last. Another crowd was soon yelling, “Crucify him. Crucify him!” They knew it was Passover, but they hadn’t expected him to be the Passover lamb. It was too much to take in.
Sabbath laws were oppressively prescriptive. You couldn’t walk much and you certainly couldn’t work. Could you get spices ready to adorn a body? Better not push the limits. The women had rushed to meet the Sabbath deadline and quietly got ready for a tidier burial of Jesus on the Sunday morning. No slight on Joseph and Nicodemus, but they would use the spices they had prepared – thank you very much.
What could they do on that Saturday? The gloom was palpable, the sadness, suffocating. You just had to sit around, waiting. Waiting for what? “Well tomorrow we’ll be able to sort his tomb out,” someone said. But just that was enough to trigger another round of wailing. “No, no, no.” “Why, why, why?”
Why indeed?
Don’t you hate waiting – being in that horrible in between time? As each minute ticks by you take in a little more of what has happened. The horror strikes more deeply. And because it’s the Sabbath, you can do nothing but wait. On Sunday you’ll get to sort the tomb out. But Sunday seems forever away…
As always, nice chatting…
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