I have not studied enough to actually know how the disciples of Jesus worshiped on the Sabbath. I can only imagine in my mind this morning what it was like going to church with Jesus. I mean physically strolling down the street, walking up to the door of the temple, sitting down beside Him and listening to the scripture being read. I can't imagine what it would be like to listen as He stood and spoke about the various portions of scripture. In my imagination, I can't come up with what it would be like to sit beside Him as He lifted His eyes toward heaven and prayed to His Father. Joy and peace would no doubt saturate that place and the hearts of those who experienced that happening. What a worshipful occasion that would be. Can you imagine the smiles on the faces? Can you imagine the hope they felt from the promises He shared with them?
This, as I understand it was not an uncommon happening. The Word tells us that Jesus went to the temple "as was His custom". He did it on a regular basis.
Last Saturday as I was walking out to the garden to work, I was enjoying the beautiful sunshine. I delighted in the birds singing and the bright green of the grass and the various colors of the flowers. The beautiful dogwoods were blooming as they always do this time of the year. I thought what a wonderful day it was, the day before Easter.
But then the thought came to me of what a horrible day it must have been for the disciples so many years ago. They experienced that Sabbath without their Savior.
I don't know if they even attended worship service in the temple that Sabbath morning. They might have been hiding. They might have been huddled together in some dark room somewhere fearful for their lives. But lets just imagine for a moment that they did find the courage to attend a service in the temple. What would it have been like?
Stand with me and look out across the faces of that little cadre of follower. What do you think we would see? Sadness, depression, loneliness would surely be the emotions expressed that day. They were beat down and defeated. What a sad sight they must have been as they came to worship without the Savior. They had lost the hope of the promise.
But can I tell you that I don't have to stretch my imagination very far to see those faces. As I stand on the platform each Sunday and try to lead the congregational music I think I see the same faces. Oh, it is not the faces of James, John and Peter. The faces I see have other names. But the sadness, depression and loneliness are the same. People in our congregation who have actually come to worship but have come without the Savior. So beat down by the dailiness of life that their joy, their song, their worship has been stolen. They have been mugged by a mischievous spirit. Their joy has been "jacked".
Their Savior is not in a tomb. He is not dead. He is risen. He has risen indeed! But you couldn't tell it by looking at their faces. You couldn't take most people's Christianity at "face value". I hate that about myself. I hate it that I let my daily chores make me frown. I hate it that people will look at me and see worry, fret, sadness or whatever my old face depicts. I want them to be able to see the hope and joy I have in my heart.
I don't ever want to experience a Sabbath without my Savior. I don't ever want to experience any day without my Savior. I want to enter into His house with joy and hope and expectation on my face. I want to enter and exit from my house with those same emotions.
I'm sure for the disciples that day it was the worse Sabbath they ever experienced. Let me tell you though, it's one that you and I will never have to experience. We will never have to go through a day without Him. "I will never leave you nor forsake you" He said. That was a promise. Do you have hope in that promise? Then tell you face about it.
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