Holy Week: Saturday

Peter, John, James, Lazarus, Mary, Martha, Mary Magdelene, Simon the Leper, Nicodemus, Joseph of Arimathea, Pilate's wife... what was everybody doing? What was everybody thinking?

If there ever was a day of confusion this had to be it. I do not believe we can understand confusion like this. What were the disciples thinking? They couldn't think. They were in shock. Their brains would not work. They were living in hiding, trying to figure out what to do. Jesus was dead. Judas was dead. What just happened?

They were living in pure shock and quaking fear. They were expecting at any moment soldiers would beat down the doors and they would be next. They were grieved beyond measure. They were exhausted. At some point, each one probably had a complete breakdown whether private or public. Heaving, gut-wrenching sobs poured out from love and blame and conviction and love and shame and denial and love.

Were they remembering his words? No, they weren't remembering anything at all. Were they hopeful for his return? No, it never entered their minds. All hope was gone.

Complete confusion, lack of hope, no plan, and utter sorrow.