C. S. Lewis, in A Grief Observed (1961), made this comment about his own grief after the death of his wife. But perhaps it could apply to how the disciples felt as Friday drew to a close.
Meanwhile, where is God?
This is one of the most disquieting symptoms.
When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense of needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be—or so it feels—welcomed with open arms.
But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find?
A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside.
After that, silence.
You may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the more emphatic the silence will become. There are no lights in the windows. It might be an empty house. Was it ever inhabited? It seemed so once. And that seeming was as strong as this. What can this mean? Why is He so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in our time of trouble?
But praise be to God. It’s only Friday. Sunday’s coming.