Holy Saturday

Rev. Larry Bowden

It was the preparation day for the Sabbath, and the Sabbath was quickly approaching.  The women who had come with Jesus from Galilee followed Joseph from Arimathea, who had taken Jesus’ body from the cross.  They saw the tomb, and how Jesus’ body was laid in it, then they went away and prepared fragant spices and perfumed oils.  They rested on the Sabbath, in keeping with the commandment. – Luke 23:54-56 (alt.) CEB

The other days of Holy Week have distinctive names.  Palm Sunday.  Maundy Thursday.  Good Friday.  Easter Sunday.  But the Saturday after Good Friday and before Easter has to make do with a generic “Holy”.  Surely we could have come up with something better than “Holy” for the day when Jesus’ body lies in the tomb, and the disciples are gripped by grief and fear.  What’s holy about that?

Several years ago, I noticed that this day felt different.  One church I served had its Easter Egg Hunt on the Saturday before Easter, and, while my kids enjoyed it, it always felt a little forced to me.  I didn’t feel like celebrating.  I wanted to stay home, and stay in.  Be quiet.  It was like I was waiting for something.  It finally dawned on me.  On that Saturday, it was like someone had died.

If we do Lent and Holy Week right, by Holy Saturday, we are tired.  We are weary from all the services and the planning and the working.  Our time of spiritual emptying, of fasting, is drawing to a close.  It’s the last day of Lent, and we are ready to give up what we have given up.  We are closer on this day to name our need for God than we’ve been at any time.  Maybe “holy” is appropriate.  It’s holy to wait in hope.  It’s holy to admit we are spent and weary.  It’s holy to grieve, and it’s holy to long for something different, for new life.

Between the cross and the empty tomb is where we live our lives.  And because of Jesus’ death and resurrection, all our days, even the empty ones and dark ones, are graced by his presence.  We may not be able to see it.  We may be weary or stricken with our pain and grief.  But beneath and in all of that, God is at work preparing us for the gift of new life in Jesus.  Today is Saturday, but Sunday’s coming.

Holy God, you work in us in ways we cannot see and know, to make us ready to receive with joy the salvation you offer in your son Jesus.  Help us to wait with hope, and strengthen our faith.  In Jesus’ name.  Amen.