He was dead,
Our Hope,
Our Salvation;
Joseph, kind Joseph, had taken down his body, wrapped it in white linen and laid it in a tomb.
Nicodemus, perfumed his mangled body with myrrh and aloes as hastily as he could. It was Preparation Day, the light was dimming.
That was last night, what a night!
People saw their dead,
The temple curtain torn from top to bottom.
Judas hang himself. Peter and all the others are in hiding.
A centurion believes that Jesus is truly the Son of God.
Today is the Sabbath,
We rest,
We keep it holy,
We pray,
We give thanks to the Lord because He is good and His mercies endure forever;
We give thanks to the Lord because He is good, His love is eternal.
Yet
Our savior lies dead in a rich man’s tomb.
It hurts. Shall we wail in hopelessness? It is the Sabbath, it is the Lord’s day. The rumblings of victory swallowing death.
The lamb slain before the foundations of time?
Mary had broken her jar of precious oil, anointed his feet with oil,washed his feet with her tears. Giving her all, she, not a priest, not a man, prepared our passover lamb for sacrifice.
Dead on the Sabbath,
quietly reconciling,
reconstituting,
reframing,
resounding,
restoring,
All things to Himself,
All things in Himself,
All things for Himself.
Taking captivity captive,
Making a public spectacle of principalities and powers of darkness,
Taking the sting out of death,
Taking the sting out of Hades.
Redeeming us for Love alone,
Conveying us to the Kingdom of God,
Triumphing in Rest.
It is finished!