Saturday — the day in-between. The no mans land between the horror and the hope. The ending and the beginning.
Here we are still reeling. The grief is raw. There is shock and disbelief— this was not how it was supposed to be.
He actually died. Despite everything He said, the claims He made, He was no different in the end. “It is finished,” He uttered as He gave up His spirit, and now it is. Three years of the most incredible ministry, over in an instant. Now His broken lifeless body lies in a tomb and there is only silence. Our hope dead with Him.
Except it isn’t. See, unlike His shattered, distraught disciples, we have the benefit of perspective. We know the ending. We know that Sunday is coming. The day when His dead body breathed and there was no longer a body in the tomb. The day when Love vanquished death, Grace fell like rain and Hope for a broken world was born.
Yet many of us get stuck there – in the silence of Saturday. Reeling from circumstances almost impossible to fathom. That leave us numb with grief, paralyzed with pain. ‘How can this be happening God?’ We plead in our disbelief. ‘This is not how it was supposed to be. Where are your promises now?’
But thanks to Sunday, there is hope. The same God who resurrected Jesus of Nazareth can and will resurrect our lives too. Offering regeneration and redemption to shattered hearts and broken lives. Turning weeping to dancing, sorrow to joy. An eternal victory.
Our resurrection Sunday may not be tomorrow, but it is coming. Our God is not One who breaks His promises. And so here in the silence and suffering of Saturday, under the shadow of the cross, we can rest. We can trust, and we can hope.
Because the tomb was empty— and Jesus lives.