The Day In Between

What am I supposed to do now?  I was sure he was the One.  My life is ruined.  I had invested everything in Jesus -- I left my family, my job, by community, EVERYTHING in order to follow him.  And for three years I was certain as I saw him perform miracles and heard his amazing, authoritative teaching that this was finally the one to bring us liberation from our oppressors.  I admit I didn't understand everything he said.  When he talked about suffering and dying, I dismissed it.  It just didn't make any sense to me.  I thought maybe he was speaking another one of his really confusing parables or metaphors.  I was still sure that he'd lead the crowds in an uprising and overthrow Herod and Pilate and even Rome itself.  But now they've all killed him.  And now I'm all alone.  I don't even know where the other followers are.  That night we all just kind of scattered.  It happened so fast.  I couldn't even think.  My deep-down instincts for self-preservation led me to get out of there as fast as I could.  I've got to admit I admire Peter for trying to defend Jesus despite the odds.  That at least showed more courage than I had.  But then Jesus scolded Peter and told him something about putting away the sword.  I just seriously don't get it.  How are we supposed to overthrow our oppressors without the sword?  Frankly (and I hate to admit this)... sometimes I think Jesus was just too idealistic and not practical enough.  He always had his head in the clouds.  He wasn't willing to recognize the dirtiness and seriousness of our enemies.  Instead, he just kept telling us to pray for them and love them.  That's all real nice, but how does that overthrow Caesar?  You're not going to liberate Israel with a bunch of love and prayers.  But what do I know?  I guess it all boils down to nothing now.  He's dead.  There's no changing that.  Maybe I made a huge mistake in believing things could actually change.  As I woke up this morning, my first thought was that maybe yesterday was all a bad dream.  But it wasn't.  It was real.  And now all is darkness.  No hope.  I guess I should just go back to fishing and try to move on...


There is great wisdom in the ancient Christian tradition that reminds us to live through Saturday before getting to Sunday.  Today is "the day in between."  It is often overlooked.  We fail to pause and soak up the total despair of this moment -- our hero has been defeated, the enemy has won.  We cry out with Job on this day, "As waters fail from a lake, and a river wastes away and dries up, so mortals lie down and do not rise again." Death seems the victor.  And although today we know the Story, we know what's coming tomorrow morning, we know that soon we will be dressed in white surrounded by springtime and Easter lilies and shouts of praise, nevertheless today we wear black.  We veil our faces with Mary and Thomas and John and the rest.  Today we stare into the face of Sheol and ponder the words of Ecclesiates, "Meaningless, meaningless, everything is meaningless."  The dark existentialist takes a strange comfort in this black Saturday because this, too, is part of the Christian year, part of our Scriptures, and part of life.  Without experiencing the pain and shock of Friday followed by the emptiness and despair of Saturday, we'll never fully appreciate Sunday.  So let's not rush there... although we might want to.  Instead, let's live out this black Saturday as the first disciples did.  Maybe then we will appreciate what happens very early in the morning tomorrow...