It's Saturday, but Sunday's coming

The Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is a strange day. It is absolutely empty, a void between the drama and passion of Good Friday and the triumph and mystery of Easter Sunday.

It is the single day in history when the human and spiritual powers of evil (seemed to have) prevailed, the only day where the man Christ Jesus is dead from start to finish. Friday he was alive, and died. Sunday, he was dead, but, well, we'll wait for it.

But Saturday, he remains dead, and the powers that put him to death have a day to think back with satisfaction on what they accomplished.

Their contentment will be short-lived.

It's Saturday, but Sunday's coming.

Being the Jewish Passover sabbath, they would have spent their time in high religious ritual, the eyes of the faithful once again upon them, secure in the knowledge that the meddlesome interloper had been dealt with by the finality of death. What could be more final than death?

It's Saturday, but Sunday's coming.

Pilate, unfettered by sabbath constraints, would have resumed his political activities, and maybe had a chat with his wife about her dream, and her warning not to have anything to do with the man. Maybe he thought about his cynicism, if that is what it was ("what is truth?"), and his catering to the crowd and political expediency. Ah well.

It's Saturday, but Sunday's coming.

The disciples were in complete disarray, but it seems the woman at least had the sense to begin thinking about honoring their master by planning to visit his grave when the Sabbath ended. And how many knew about Peter's betrayal? Was he on the outs with the gang, or did it no longer matter now that their leader was gone?

It's Saturday, but Sunday's coming.

I wonder what Joseph of Arimathea thought about, the day after he provided his own tomb for Jesus. Did he have any inkling that he was a participant in a drama of cosmic significance, and that this was his moment? Was he with the disciples, and did he talk with them? Was he a hero with them for having the presence of mind to request Christ's body and make his own tomb available?

It's Saturday, but Sunday's coming.

And Mary. What about Mary? Did she think back on the prophecies concerning her son, how her heart would be pierced. And how Jesus' life began and ended; first, in someone else's manger, and then in someone else's tomb. Surely someone deserves a better break from God than that! Did her faith in God waver for even a moment?

Ah yes, Saturday.

But Sunday's coming.

Sunday's coming.

Sunday's coming.

And that's the way the Ball bounces.