Shattered Hope

 I’m writing this during the night of Good Friday, thinking of what Christ’s followers might have thought on that eerily quiet night. Some have called the day following Good Friday, “Silent Saturday.” It was the Sabbath; it was a day that would typically have little activity. But this Sabbath is different; it was especially quiet.

The disciples had the advantage of being closest to Jesus, sitting under His most intimate lessons, yet still didn’t completely understand. The events of Holy Week underscored their lingering questions and misunderstanding. All of their hopes were shattered.

The One on whom they had hung their hopes was dead. They could be targeted next as visible followers. So they locked their doors, huddled in hiding, pondering what next. What do they do now? What’s going to happen to us?

The past 24 hours were horrendous. Did they even sleep? Could they? Would every noise outside startle them with fear? We have the benefit of knowing the “It’s Friday but Sunday’s coming” explanation but they did not. Friday night and Saturday must have been a gut wrenching time for them.

Even with our knowledge of the outcome of the resurrection, I wonder how we are handling shattered hopes. Have we hung our hopes on a person or ideology that fell through? Did our dream job go south? Have you hitched your wagon to someone else’s agenda only to have it crash and burn?

Don’t despair. We have hope because silent Saturdays turn into Resurrection Sundays.