When it was evening, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who was also a disciple of Jesus. Joseph went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then Pilate ordered Jesus’ body to be given to Joseph.
So Joseph took Jesus’ body and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth. Joseph laid the body in his own new tomb, which Joseph had hewn in the rock. Joseph then rolled a great stone to the door of the tomb and went away.
Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb.
The next day, Saturday, that is, after the day of Preparation, the chief priests and the
Pharisees gathered before Pilate and said, “Sir, we remember what that impostor said while Jesus was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise again.’
“Therefore command the tomb to be made secure until the third day; otherwise Jesus’ disciples may go and steal him away, and tell the people, ‘Jesus has been raised from the dead,’ and the last deception would be worse than the first.”
Pilate said to his officers, “You have a guard of soldiers. Go, make the tomb as secure as you can.” So the soldiers went with the guard and made the tomb secure by sealing the stone. (Matthew 27:57-66 NRSV)
Today is Holy Saturday. Yesterday, on Good Friday, Jesus was crucified on a cross and laid in a tomb. Jesus is dead.
Today is a holy day in the life of the church, but it is not one that is widely recognized in my Protestant tradition. Often, we recognize the pain of Good Friday and move quickly ahead to the joy and splendor of Easter morning. Today is the day in the middle.
I have seldom contemplated what this day might signify as part of our Christian story. I have not embraced the power of today and how this Holy Saturday makes tomorrow even more meaningful. But I wonder what might be here for us this day.
While in seminary, I was introduced to the theological implications of Holy Saturday. I had a professor who had done extensive research on post-traumatic stress syndrome and its effect on veterans of war. She related their time after war, but before healing, as a period much like what Holy Saturday would have felt like two thousand years ago.
On this Holy Saturday, Jesus’ disciples and followers were experiencing traumatic stress. During the previous 48 hours, the disciples’ world had been flipped upside down. Just five days prior, the crowds had welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem proclaiming him king. And then on Thursday night, Jesus was arrested and beaten. Everyone fled. Everyone denied and deserted Jesus. And on Friday noon, Jesus was dead.
Jesus’ disciples and followers, both men and women, had followed Jesus faithfully. They trusted in Jesus and had found healing. And now Jesus was dead.
Because it was the Jewish sabbath, these disciples and followers sheltered out of view. They were mourning. They were confused. They were anxious, worried that they too might be arrested, even sentenced to death. They had no answers. Jesus was dead. God was silent.
Have you ever experienced a Holy Saturday in your own life?
Like veterans of war who have experienced severe trauma, have you had moments of great pain?
A friend of mine posted on her Facebook account this week a testimony to how God is working in her life. One year ago, her twenty-eight year old husband, was diagnosed with cancer. She describes the moment they heard the news in this way:
Everyone in the emergency room knew what a broken heart sounded like that day. I can only describe the sound that came out of me as something akin to a wounded, feral animal. The worst night of our lives. Things only got worse, as I was not permitted to stay with my husband in the hospital due to COVID-19.
I drove home alone after midnight, the passenger seat empty where my husband had sat just hours earlier, and I screamed at God. WHY WHY WHY WHY. There were no answers. I felt as though a cosmic punishment had befallen us for being so happy, so fulfilled.
Where was there a time in your life when you yelled out to God, “Why?”
After a tragedy or hardship of your own, have you felt like God was silent?
Has there been a time when there were no good answers to your pain?
And what about today, this Holy Saturday?
Does anything cause you fear?
Are you experiencing uncertainty?
Are you grieving?
Do you have no answers?
Today, I simply want us to embrace what today is: a day with no answers. A day to sit in silence and pain.
The same professor who introduced me to the concept and connection of traumatic stress syndrome and Holy Saturday, also described the tradition of Jesus descending into hell after his crucifixion. You may remember these words from the Apostles Creed:
Jesus suffered under Pontius Pilate,
was crucified, died, and was buried;
he descended into hell.
I think it is powerful to ponder Jesus’ descent to hell. The non-victorious day of Saturday sends us an important message: there is no reach of human experience that is inexperienced by God. Not even hell. The cross of Good Friday narrates this. But the hell of Holy Saturday confirms it for us: Jesus has experienced our every pain.
God is with you.
Sometimes we have answers.
Sometimes we are in unanswerable pain.
And God is with you. Yes, God is with us all.
And how do I know this truth?
I like you have experienced more than one Holy Saturday, but haven’t we also experienced the hope of Easter Sunday?
Last November, my 89 year old grandmother died. I really miss her and hate the idea of not seeing her, when I return home for a visit to North Carolina this summer. But over the past several months, my extended family has gathered each Tuesday morning by Zoom, simply to visit with one another. I have felt Easter hope, as we have shared memories of Ganny and given thanks for our love for one another.
So what about you? In the midst of your Holy Saturdays, have you experienced Easter joy?
My friend and her husband are still experiencing Holy Saturday, but she continued to share these words with us on Facebook:
We have faced trials many people never will, and certainly not at this age. My husband’s treatments have not followed a linear progression. We’ve had setbacks, unforeseen surprises, and a very serious ICU stay.
I don’t know why bad things happen to good people. I don’t know why our lives were so awfully disrupted, why the person I love most in this world has had to suffer.
I only know that at every single turn, when I believed I could not endure any more, the Lord carried us through. Every single time. This faith of mine is not blind. It’s not untested. It’s not naive. It’s the faith of a person who has seen the bottom, sunk into the waves, and desperately clutched the hand of our Savior. Who has been there, right there, all along.
Today is Holy Saturday. But today is not the end of the story. As the apostle Paul declares in 1 Corinthians 15, “O Death, where is your sting? O, Hades, where is your victory?”
Easter is coming! Yes, today is Holy Saturday. Today we may be without answers.
But Easter is coming! The miracle of Easter resurrection is more fully appreciated when we fully experience the gravity and loss of the two days that precede it.
On this Holy Saturday, let us be confident that tomorrow morning we will proclaim the good news: “Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!”