no rest for the weary

April 3, 2021

Matthew 27:62–66 (ESV) ~ The next day, that is, after the day of Preparation, the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered before Pilate and said, “Sir, we remember how that impostor said, while he was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise.’ Therefore order the tomb to be made secure until the third day, lest his disciples go and steal him away and tell the people, ‘He has risen from the dead,’ and the last fraud will be worse than the first.” Pilate said to them, “You have a guard of soldiers. Go, make it as secure as you can.” So they went and made the tomb secure by sealing the stone and setting a guard.

There has been no rest for the weary. All of them, up all night replaying the past day’s events in their mind. Could they have done something different? Could they have kept Him from dying? Why had He given up so easily? Were they about to be next? 

Judas was gone now. His life taken by his own hand. But his friends are too incensed and preoccupied to mourn him right now. All of them fear that in some way they will share his fate. Peter almost desires it. He has spent the night alternating between weeping, pacing and screaming. Completely unable to forgive himself for what he had done. Or perhaps more what he didn’t do. John has been watching after Mary (Jesus’ mother), and is just now beginning to come to terms with what has happened. His best friend, murdered before his very eyes – and the result is that HIS life now seems without purpose. 

ALL the disciples in one way or another have spent the night attempting make sense of what they’ve seen and decide what to do next. One thing is for sure, none of them have slept, and they converge back on the upper room, for reasons even they cannot explain. Perhaps it’s because it is the scene of the last good memory any of them have. Or maybe it’s because they think they’ll find a familiar face with whom to mourn. It could even be they have no where else to go. 

And so, one by one, they file in. Blank stares, red eyes, and tired bodies. There are few words spoken, because – no one knows what they would say. The last three days have undone the prior three years. Everything they have worked towards, died with Him on that cross, and is buried in that tomb. All there is to do now, is to pick up what is left of their dignity and their lives, and try and leave the city safely and quietly, before anyone comes for them. 

But no one is going just yet. It’s like a funeral that no one wants to leave. Because leaving means you have to face what’s real, and NONE of them are quite ready to do that. Honestly, they aren’t sure they’ll ever be ready to. 

And so instead there is a room full of tired, numb and silence. No sleep, no words, no plans, no future. And perhaps most importantly – no Savior. Jesus is gone, and with Him their hope, their belief, and the idea that God could use people like them. 

Their eyes are heavy, but not as heavy as their hearts. The sun is rising on a new day, though it makes no difference to them. They have nothing but time – yet today – there will be no rest for the weary. 

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