The saddest Sabbath of all

EasterLater, Peter gets restless and goes fishing, back to his old job, John 21:3. But now, between the crucifixion and resurrection, they rest, Luke 23.56. Their bodies, at least, if not their minds. That Sabbath must have been the saddest of all, between death and life. They must still be stunned, wondering how it ever happened. Just a week ago the country was at fever pitch as the Lord entered Jerusalem, swept in by the people’s fervor at seeing their Messiah approach the holy city. Events were finally moving toward their proper goal. Then this. Surely it was a dream — the betrayal, the judgment, the torture, the shame of the Skull. The shame of running, hiding, abandoning the Master. Where did things derail, how did it all go so wrong? Oh, the short-sightedness of human eyes!

We don’t celebrate Good Friday or Easter, but the prevailing religious climate here has me thinking about our Lord’s death. Anytime is a good time for that, is it not?

I don’t usually mention such things here on TFR, but considering she’s a Prime Mover in all things Forthright/GoSpeak, it’s appropriate to note that Barbara Ann is celebrating a birthday today, as she treks about Costa Rica. Send her your greetings.

Three Christian ladies passed away this week: Richard H.’s mom, George Bailey’s wife, Ancil Jenkins wife. Sister Elaine Jenkin’s obituary is on BNc, thanks to Dale Jenkins, the others noted on BNc’s Twitter for now. I didn’t know any of them, unfortunately, but I know family members. And knowing those they touched, what wonderful servants of God they must have been.

On Resurrection morning, it is the women who are up and doing. To them our Lord first appears. They are the first bringers of the News.

The pigeons are cooing, the sun rising, a few people stirring already. Most will miss the quiet, more pensive hours of the morning. They’ll slide out of bed after the day is already hot and moving. It’s a holiday weekend, after all.

#birthdays, #deaths, #easter, #jesus-christ