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A SHROUDED figure in a rock-closed tomb. A broken-hearted mother, whom a beloved disciple vainly tried to comfort. The other disciples, dazed and bewildered, longing for the end of the Sabbath that they might escape home to Galilee. The people of Jerusalem confused and puzzled. Pilate—if he thought about the matter at all—congratulating himself on his handling of a most unpleasant situation. The Pharisees, for once admitting that the chief priests were adepts in the art of government. The chief priests rejoicing that the perilous teacher had at last been silenced. The movement he had initiated had caused them the gravest alarm, but with his death the movement would certainly collapse. His power was over.
Over? It was just beginning.