Joshua 11:1-12:24
Luke 17:11-37
Psalm 84:1-12
Proverbs: 13:5-6
As I write this, it is 9:30 PM on Black Saturday. I was thinking of writing a reflection on today's readings, but was led instead to think what Black Saturday must have been like for the apostles. A day earlier they'd witnessed the death of the man whom they'd followed for three years; the man they'd seen work miracles, the man they believed was powerful enough to overthrow the Roman yoke and restore the kingdom of Israel; the man they thought was the Messiah. And now He was dead, after horrible torture, their hopes dead with Him; He was dead, killed by the Romans they'd hoped their Rabbi would overthrow, and worse - turned in, turned upon, by the Pharisees who'd incited the crowds to demand Jesus's execution. He was dead, and as Peter knew from his encounters before the cock crowed, people associated the apostles with Him. He was tortured and now He was dead...would they be next? How could things have so devastatingly come to this, so soon after He'd entered Jerusalem so triumphantly? What were they to do now? What would happen to them? For the apostles, Black Saturday must have been very black indeed.
We know today how this was all part of God's plan; how soon after dawn on Easter Sunday, the women would discover the empty tomb, word would get to the disciples and, in what would have been the moment of greatest clarity and certainty, Jesus would appear to them, confirming His resurrection, confirming their faith in Him, and redirecting it along the paths their faith was intended to take all along. He'd been killed but He wasn't dead; He was a Messiah but one far better than they thought He was; and the dark of Black Saturday's night turned out to be just as much a part of God's plan as His Son's resurrection and the apostle's commission. At some point, perhaps after Jesus had invited Thomas to confirm His resurrection by putting his fingers in Our Lord's nail marks and his hand in Jesus's side, I expect the disciples had a rueful, wonder-filled conversation that went along the lines of "What were we thinking? How could we have been so afraid, and for nothing? How could we have doubted?"
How often does that happen to us, that we find ourselves in situations we believe are bleak, where all we have are fear and bewilderment - "How could things have gone so wrong, and so quickly?" It's happened to me more than once, and every single time I find out God had a plan all along, one consistent with His definition of blessing and bounty, not mine. And yet, for as often as that has happened, whenever I find myself in Black Saturday darkness, I struggle to remember there is an Easter Sunday of circumstance coming, far better than any set of circumstances I might imagine for myself. It happens a lot more than I think any of us imagines - it certainly happened to the ten lepers, who might have been hoping for a coin or two, and who likely had no inkling they'd been healed - after all, the only thing Jesus said to them was "Go, show yourselves to the priests." They went, likely resigned to the idea what they would hear would be no different than they'd heard before: "Leprosy. Unclean."Little did they know Jesus had far better planned for them than the condemnation they feared, than the coin for which they'd hoped.
Father, when we find ourselves helpless and hopeless, remind us of Black Saturday and how You had a plan for the disciples all along; remind us that You love us as much and, just like You did for them, You have a plan for us as well, one far greater than anything we might dream of for ourselves. May we be comforted by that faith through the night, till we see the fruition of Your plans come the dawn.
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