This Saturday two groups of self professed devout Jews were sorely tempted to do the unthinkable – break the sabbath.
The Chief Priests and the Pharisees, having publicly slaughtered the healer from Nazareth for alleged Sabbath-breaking, didn’t quite have the trust in Yahweh to call a halt to their “shut-down-the-son-of-man” project for a day as they should. They broke the law they were claiming to uphold as they increasingly aligned with the hand washing Roman regime. Not content with controlling the outcome, they also needed PR team in overdrive managing the public narrative that day. Bury it, seal it, guard it, shut it down. We kill him, control him, write the report, and don’t think about the principles we sacrifice in order to do so.
The women from Galilee, Jesus’ mates and most faithful disciples, were also desperate to break the Sabbath that day. Did they debate it? I bet they did. “Even Jesus healed on the Sabbath – we should go to him, they’ll be sealing that tomb now...” Desperate to anoint their Lord and stem the decay of their dead friend’s bludgeoned body.
But they sat there, burial spices in hand, and kept the Sabbath.
Broken, bewildered, defeated and desperate they still trusted and honoured Yahweh, and prepared to do something beautiful for their Lord.
God, make me like those girls. On days of utter defeat, promises unfulfilled, heaven silent, Jesus buried by the regime, would I trust and honour the Father, and plot to do something beautiful for my Lord.