In our culture, following a burial, we cover the freshly turned soil with dozens of flowers. It just makes it look a little better, doesn’t it? In the days of Jesus, the tomb would be surrounded with spices and fragrances, just makes the stench of death a bit less painful.

But the fact remains, the Lord is dead. As hard as we can be on the disciples at times, let’s give them a little grace for this day. Suddenly, their Rabbi, whom they watched and followed so closely – to the most minute detail – is gone. No more words of instruction or explanation from the Master teacher. Those hands that broke the bread, washed their feet, opened blind eyes, are now scarred by nails and lay folded and cold in death.

Do we ever fully realize what we have until we lose it? How must those eleven men felt the day after the crucifixion. Lost, confused, bewildered can only begin to describe this day for them.

Silence…sometimes…it’s deafening.