Shock, confusion, disillusionment, and hopelessness all rose with Jesus' followers to greet the Sabbath morning, over 2000 years ago. The one on whom they had placed their hopes for deliverance was dead. Dead like the many false messiahs who came before him.
Oh, the shame if it! He did not die like his predecessors, stoned according to the Law. No. His was fate was that of a criminal, hoisted exposed on a Roman cross. Cursed under the Law.
What next? Maybe after the dust settled to slip back into the synagogue? Go back to fishing? See if the old jobs were still open and simply go back to life as it was. Blot out the whole memory as if it never was.
Ah, but what triumph silently waited to be revealed! Not even Satan knew of his own defeat. Sure, Jesus was in the tomb and his Spirit walked the land of shadows. But only as a traveler, only in transition, only to dismantle the grip of hell, only as LORD of both the living and the dead.
Death won a brief battle but in three short days resurrection would soon win the war, forever.
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