A note a day for Holy Week-Come Saturday morning

Come Saturday morning
I'm going away with my friend
We'll Saturday-spend till the end of the day
Just I and my friend
We'll travel for miles in our Saturday smiles
And then we'll move on
But we will remember long after Saturday's gone

Come Saturday Morning
The Sandpipers, 1970
Words by Dory Previn and Music by Fred Carlin

Mark 15:42-47 (NRSV)
When evening had come, and since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the sabbath, Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the council, who was also himself waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God, went boldly to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then Pilate wondered if he were already dead; and summoning the centurion, he asked him whether he had been dead for some time. When he learned from the centurion that he was dead, he granted the body to Joseph. Then Joseph bought a linen cloth, and taking down the body, wrapped it in the linen cloth, and laid it in a tomb that had been hewn out of the rock. He then rolled a stone against the door of the tomb. Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where the body was laid.

After the horrors of two world wars J.R.R. Tolkien wrote these words:

"How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on... when in your heart you begin to understand... there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend... some hurts that go too deep... that have taken hold."

So... what must it have been like to be a disciple the day after the crucifixion? For Peter, James and John it wasn't as simple as returning to their boats. Three years had past. Someone else was depending on those boats to feed their own families. But did it matter? How could they ever throw a net without picturing Jesus coming to them on the waves; walking on water? Every storm would be forever compared to the one Jesus calmed with just his voice. They were marked men, forever connected to a radical prophet that was hung on a cross for blasphemy. Jesus was gone, Judas was dead, and none of those who remained were safe. No... returning to their boats would not be easy.

And the women who followed Christ, some previously tainted, now forever changed, where would they go? How would they eat without returning to the previous life? How could they? Were they to become beggars? This didn't feel like grace.

Jesus made it easy to give up the old life. At least it seemed that way. They all traveled together, and took care of each other. They were taken care of by many who had quietly hoped that Jesus would deliver Israel from political brutes and power brokers.

But Jesus had been crucified. The support would end and those closest to him would be stranded like fish in a lake that is quickly drying up: their eyes staring at the sun, mouths gasping for breath, desperately flopping about hoping to land in some bit of water... some bit of hope.

The day after was a long day for the first followers of Jesus the Messiah... a day of unquenchable thirst...