
For we know that joy comes in both the mourning and the morning... Jesus' death and resurrection illuminate this balance.
Easter comes around every year, and, sadly, most of us are consumed by Easter bunnies, chocolate candy, and deviled eggs instead of what truly matters. As Christians, we're familiar with Passion Week. The triumph of Palm Sunday, the tragedy of Good Friday, and the triumph of Easter Sunday. But what about Saturday? What about the days in between? What about the silence? The waiting? The not-knowing?
Whether we like to admit it or not, most of life is about living in these in-between moments. We love the mountains and hate the valleys. We know how to celebrate victory and endure pain (even though it's not pleasant). But what about when God is silent? How do we remain faithful in these silent seasons? And in the case of Easter, how do we remain steadfast on Silent Saturday? How do we avoid allowing it to become just another day?
The Forgotten Day
According to the Scriptures, we know a lot leading up to Jesus' death, but very little about the days between the tomb (Matthew 27:62-66) and His resurrection. It was the women who were with Jesus to the end, while His disciples were hiding, grieving, and fearful. After the curtain in the Temple was torn and the earth quaked, the world was silent. To the world, hope seemed lost.
"Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads and saying, 'You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! Come down from the cross, if you are the Son of God!' In the same way the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders mocked him. 'He saved others,' they said, 'but he can’t save himself! He’s the king of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him, for he said, "I am the Son of God."' In the same way the rebels who were crucified with him also heaped insults on him" (Matthew 27:39-44, NIV).
Today, we know "Good Friday" is good because "Sunday is coming." But for Jesus' disciples and followers in that day and age, the story hadn't been written yet. It was in the process of being fulfilled. Not only did this bring the heaviness of uncertainty, but it brought immense ridicule, heartbreak, and doubt. In the days between life and death, the miracles were quiet. No appearances, no light breaking forth, no good news of truth. Just deafening silence.
What Happened on Silent Saturday?
So what happened on Silent Saturday? Some of God's greatest work happens behind the scenes, and as a former teacher, I was often told, "The teacher is always quiet during the test." If God seems far or quiet, it doesn't mean He isn't working; there can be a spiritual victory unfolding (1 Peter 3:18-20, Colossians 2:15).
Many times in the Scripture, beyond Jesus' birth, death, and resurrection, waiting is a part of God's rhythm. Abraham waited to have a child, Joseph waited to rule, and David waited to be king. In our lives, this waiting might look like unanswered prayers, unfulfilled expectations, and longing desires. Our human flesh fights with our spirit when we're between these concepts.
Though we know relatively little about this silent day, we know its silence was significant. How am I so certain? Because in the Word of God, and the lives of those around me, I've found this to be true. It's in the waiting, it's in the moments of stillness and solitude, that I find answers. That I hear Him speak. That I pause. That I rest in the unknown. That I release the need to have my next 25 years mapped out. And there, I find peace. Rest. Solitude. Answers. Hope. Strength.
Why We Need Silent Saturday
We need Silent Saturday because it teaches us to trust God's Word, even when we struggle to understand. Again, Jesus' disciples didn't know the rest of the story—they just had to have faith and believe it was true. But we have their testimony and the testimony of dozens of witnesses to propel and nourish our faith.
Sitting in this day of silence also reminds us that it's okay to grieve. It honors grief and joy. For we know that joy comes in both the mourning and the morning. Not in an inconsiderate or inhumane way, but in a way that makes room for both. Jesus' death and resurrection illuminate this balance. There is room in our lives for grief and joy, and that's okay. It gives space for doubts and questions without shame, just as the disciples and followers of Jesus wrestled with the same.
Our culture thrives on instant gratification. If our coffee takes too long, we make instant. If someone doesn't respond to our text in a few minutes, we worry (myself included—no shame here). Snapchat, Instagram, and Facebook provide a world of stories in an instant. And yet, Silent Saturday invites us to be still. To sit in the silence. To wrestle with the discomfort. Because resurrection might not be today, but Sunday is coming.
Sunday Is Coming: Resurrection Always Follows
Silent Saturday isn't the end, but the beginning. As we know, Jesus' resurrection is the greatest miracle here on earth. But His resurrection is just a foretaste of what He has in store for those who love Him and call Him Savior, Father, and Friend. This hope isn't just past; it's past, present, and future.
1 Corinthians 15:20-23 says it this way: "But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. But each in turn: Christ, the firstfruits; then, when he comes, those who belong to him" (NIV).
God is always working, even when we can't see or feel Him. And the quiet and somber tomb on Saturday became the empty and victorious tomb on Sunday. As Mark 16:6 writes, "And he said to them, 'Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen; he is not here. See the place where they laid him'" (ESV).
Friends, Jesus has defeated the grave. You might still be walking through graveyard moments in this temporary life—periods of silence, shame, and stillness—but that season can't and won't last forever. It plays a purpose, and Sunday is coming. He's coming to seek and to save the lost. He's coming when we need Him most.
Agape, Amber
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