Silence. That’s exactly what Scripture records for the Sabbath Day of Passion Week. Silence. It might be easy to infer what that Saturday must have been like. The day before the town was filled with gossip and rumor about the crucifixion of Jesus. The end of that story was more remarkable than the beginning.
“Did you hear?” Someone would ask. “Even while hanging on the cross He said, ‘Father, forgiven them. They don’t know what they’re doing.’ Do you think He really did all those things He was accused of?”
“Where were you when the sky went dark?” Another person would say. “It was crazy! And then the earthquake happened! My friend Josiah fell right out of his chair! It’s funny now, but it was scary then.”
“They’re really scrambling today over at the Temple. I heard the vale ripped from top to bottom. If only the High Priest can go in that room how will they ever get it fixed?”
Silence – in the Bible, but certainly not silence in the city.
It was another Sabbath Day – The Sabbath of Passover. Pilgrims would come to offer sacrifice not knowing that the ultimate sacrifice was made on the cross only a few hours before.
Do you think the Disciples went to Temple on this Sabbath Day? I doubt it. I believe they huddled together somewhere in Jerusalem. Scared. Hurt. Confused. Wondering what went wrong. Worrying about what happens next. Not knowing what they should do or who they could trust. What does tomorrow hold?
So, for 24 anxious hours they wait. And in Scripture, there’s silence.