Today is the second day. A day of doubt, despair, and fear.
(“Jesus Cross,” by Claudio Ungari, on Flickr under Creative Commons.)
I think of Jesus’s disciples on the second day. Those who knew him, loved him, followed him; who listened to him, questioned him, wondered about him. Those who believed in what they thought he would do, believed in what he said, believed in him. And saw him taken from them.
They were marked men (“Weren’t you with him?” “I don’t know him!”). Not so much revolutionaries without a leader as sheep without a shepherd.
The second day was a Sabbath day. A day of rest, when no work would be done. A day when the mind should be turned to God. A day of no distractions.
I imagine they prayed for distractions. For brighter memories of better days, instead of bitter images of the first day.
I imagine they did not think of the day as the second day, or the day before as the first. And I imagine they did not much anticipate what the third day would bring.
For them, it was just a dark and terrifying “today.”
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