A Day Like Any Other

It is the Jewish Sabbath. The city is quiet. The air above the city lacks the usual thousand little trails of smoke from cookfires. Hymns rise from the temple. Families are indoors. The soldiers are back in their barracks.

The Chief Priest grows hoarse with singing. The Roman Governor dictates letters and plays ludus with his secretary. The free bread the temple distributes to the poor has gone stale by midday, but tastes alright dipped in water or broth.

The tomb in which Jesus was buried is guarded by a Roman Centurion. Death has interrupted life only as much as it ever does. We die one at a time and disappear, but the life of the living continues. The earth turns. The sun makes its way toward the western horizon no slower or faster than it usually does.

Wait for it. Things are about to change for eternity.

(Adapted, Unapologetic, Francis Spufford)

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