“It’s Saturday, but Sunday’s comin’

Jesus died on a Friday. He was buried that same day.

His execution felt unexpected to his followers, even though he had warned them many times that it would happen.

Events had swirled around them ... A late night arrest on Thursday. A midnight trial.  A morning execution. Then nailed to a wooden cross in the midst of thieves and murderers, Jesus bled and died. The situation seemed out of control. The power and rage of Rome was in full flower. And it came crashing down on Jesus.  

Then came Saturday. Jesus was dead and gone, and his followers and his closest friends were hiding behind locked doors. They undoubtedly feared they would be next.

We have no record in the Gospels of where they were hiding that day, or who was in their group, or what they said to each other.

The Scriptures are silent about what happened on that Saturday. 

But we do know that a group of them were hiding together, with the doors locked, out of fear.

We can imagine the atmosphere in that place.  The anger and the confusion and the hurt; the betrayal.  Could they look at one other without rage or resentment? They all had run and left Jesus to die. Well, the guys had run and hid. But the women knelt and wept.  But either way, it seems that they all had lost hope. Their messiah was murdered. Their rabbi was killed, dead and buried. In reality, they all had lost hope.

Can you imagine the cold silence; the glares of resentment? How did they express their acrimony and accusations, spoken and unspoken?

We don’t know, but we do know how it feels, on some level. We share a common humanity with those who had lost their beloved one and were feeling lost and afraid.

It was Saturday. A dark Saturday; a bitter and broken Saturday.

When have you experienced this kind of hurt or anger?  Who has betrayed a deep and real trust in your life? A parent? A child? A coach? A spouse? A pastor?

We often live in a “Saturday of Silence” between the death of life-as-we’ve-known-it, and a new life that only God can give.

In the disciples’ life, Sunday was coming; they would see Jesus again, and speak with him again. The miracle was coming. But, on that dark and silent Saturday, they couldn’t see him.  

Finding the grace and the hope to expect a “Sunday” is coming during our Silent Saturday is impossible without the help and presence of Jesus. But just as Jesus eventually appeared to his angry and confused people, so he wants to appear to us through his Spirit and Word. 

That is the hope, and reality, and the power of Jesus' resurrection. That's why we can revise a popular sermon title, and encourage ourselves, “It’s Saturday, but Sunday’s comin’!”