Saturday, April 14, 2012

Silent Saturday--Part Two (weekend trilogy)

Stones being crunched under the feet of passersby paralyze them all.  Voices outside, raising the levels of fear, can be heard in every corner of the room.  Grief and despair are like an oncoming tsunami ready to overtake them.  Death has overcome their hope.  Weeping and stifled groans of anguish have been the norm since "that day".  Questions lead to more questions that appear to have no answer.

Could Jesus really be dead? 
How could this have happened? 
What did we miss?
What do we do now? 
Are we the next to die?

Our master, teacher, friend... the promised Messiah now lay in a borrowed tomb.  His lifeless, broken body now mirrored by those who professed to live and die with him.

Like wild animals they scattered from the reach of the soldiers as they took him. 
Now they are in hiding, these 11 men who had walked and talked with Jesus.  What of the miracles? The blind man, made jubilant, now that he has been given sight; parents whose daughter was no longer 'asleep'; a demonic son now set free; Peter's mother healed from sickness? 

Peter, poor Peter.  Where could he be?  Was he in the hands of the soldiers?  Is he...dead?  So much death these past few hours.  Judas, the son of perdition, had hung himself.  The two thieves on either side of Jesus, one who believed and one who mocked were dead also. 

"Aaaahhhh.  Jesus, Jesus, Lord Jesus",  I scream in hopeless fury.  Every head in the room snaps towards me.  I weep harder now, not sure where the tears are coming from.  "Who cares?" I vent to my fellow inmates.  "HE IS DEAD, and we are next." 
The others in the room turn away, bow there heads and continue marching to an expected death while only going a few feet at a time and never leaving the room.   Darkness has overcome the Light.

Nighttime claims the land and the shadows are become one.  Silence invades the surrounding territories and each is left to their own imaginations of 'what could have been.'

Suddenly,  there was pounding on the door.  A finger was raised to silence the enclosed occupants.  Who could it be?  There was only one possible answer---Roman soldiers being led by death.