The Saturday between Good Friday and Easter is traditionally a day of reflection. Yesterday during our Good Friday service, I focused on the women who were there. Right now the only thing they could do was wait. Tomorrow they could go with their herbs and spices and give the final gift of a proper burial to their teacher.
But what about today? Did they go through the motions of celebrating the Passover? Or did they sit in formal mourning together? I can imagine blocking the dreadful memories of Friday in the everyday actions of cooking and feeding others. I can also imagine the need to be with others who understood my grief and shared my experience.
And what did they think? Did they believe God abandoned Jesus, and by extension, them? Did they cling to faith, or turn away from a God who allowed such a thing to happen? Did they remember Jesus's words of warning about the events to come and wonder what could possibly happen next to erase the pain?
Where were they on this bleak day? I am so blessed to know that tomorrow is coming and that love conquered death once and for all. But the women are still in the middle of their story. What do they believe the next day will bring?