The Saturday before Easter Death Reigns

On this day,

Jesus is dead.
His body lies
In a dank, stone hole
Sealed against the light.
A part of God is dead.  
The Trinity is broken.
The Creator holds the breath of life,

But the stench of death

Fills the tomb. 
Without the Word, 
The Comforter is bereft.
Tomorrow,
Life will conquer death.
Jesus will rise
With the promise
Of resurrection for all,
But not this day.
This day death reigns.

The Saturday before Easter

On this day,
The apostles are absent

From the gospels,
This missing day.
Jesus is dead
His disciples believe.
Their world is ashes.
Their grief is immense.
They fear for their lives.
They hide in the upper room.
Only the women dare to go out.
Jerusalem is strangely quiescent.

Pilate places a guard by the tomb.

This day Christ's body lies undisturbed.
Tomorrow the disciples' world

Will come alive
But not today.
We must remember

That missing day
When sorrow fills us,
When we tremble in fear,
When we hide from the world.
Those that knew our Savior best
Did not escape their human frailty,
Neither can we.
We know that with the morrow
Came relief and jubilation.
We have the risen Christ
Not the missing day.

The Missing Day

On this day,
The apostles are absent

From the gospels.
This missing day.
Jesus is dead
His disciples believe.
Their world is ashes.
Their grief is immense.
They fear for their lives.
They hide in the upper room.
Only the women dare to go out.
Jerusalem is strangely quiescent.

Pilate places a guard by the tomb.

This day Christ's body lies undisturbed.
Tomorrow the disciples' world

Will come alive
But not today.
We must remember

That missing day
When sorrow fills us,
When we tremble in fear,
When we hide from the world.
Those that knew our Savior best
Did not escape their human frailty,
Neither can we.
We know that with the morrow
Came relief and jubilation.
We have the risen Christ
Not the missing day.

The Missing Day: Saturday Before Easter

Photo by hoyasmeg

Jesus is dead
His disciples believe.
On this day,
The apostles are absent

From the gospels
This missing day.
Their world is ashes.
Their grief is immense.
They fear for their lives.
They hide in the upper room.
Only the women dare to go out.
Jerusalem is strangely quiescent.

Pilate places a guard by the tomb.

This day Christ's body lies undisturbed.
Tomorrow the disciples' world

Will come alive
But not today.
We must remember

That missing day
When sorrow fills us,
When we tremble in fear,
When we hide from the world.
Those that knew our Savior best
Did not escape their human frailty,
Neither can we.
We know that with the morrow
Came relief and jubilation.
We have the risen Christ
Not the missing day.