Holy Saturday
Isaiah 40:31 –
But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
The Bible says very little about Holy Saturday (the day after Jesus’ crucifixion and the day before His resurrection). Each Gospel account plays out a similar scene after Jesus’ death - Joseph of Arimathea collecting Jesus’ body and preparing it for burial in his tomb, with Mary & Mary Magdalene assisting (Luke 23.55-56).
And then the Sabbath comes, the Sabbath was a day of rest, a day to be still. Exodus 20.8-10 says “Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labour and do all your work but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall not do any work…”
For a minute try to put yourself in the place of Jesus’ friends and followers on that Sabbath day. In Mark 8.31 Jesus told his disciples that He would “be killed and after three days rise again”. I imagine that this Sabbath was filled with tears and cries of grief and anger, denial even. An aching for something that wasn’t yet, a promise of something to come but a doubt that it actually would. This, for me, makes Holy Saturday as much of a significant day as the two days surrounding it.
Here is my Holy Saturday experience: In 2009 my mum had a stroke that initially took away her speech and some of her movement. However, she appeared to make a miraculous recovery and was up and about, back to her usual self in no time. What we now know is that the stroke did some irrevocable damage that led to a slow, steady decline. By 2014 mum was having issues with her circulatory system, if she bumped herself a bruise would become an ulcer that just wouldn’t heal. After numerous stays in various hospitals around Birmingham (my faithful dad visiting her every single day, no matter where in the Midlands she was) in 2015 we made the heartbreaking decision that the best way to care for mum would be in a nursing home. During one of my visits to the home, after a particularly bad night, mum turned to me and said “Hope, I’m just so ready for heaven now. I want to be with Jesus”. My mum loved Jesus with all of her heart and she knew with certainty what was waiting for her when she passed. But it would be more than one year on before Jesus called her into her heavenly home. Over a year of mum just lying in a bed, totally reliant on others and in constant pain. For us, knowing that mum wanted to be with Jesus, seeing her existing rather than living… (whilst not wishing her life away) we were constantly asking “why was God keeping her here on earth?”. It was the most exhausting, frustrating and faith testing time of my life. I know that whilst I’m this side of eternity I won’t know the answer to why she had to suffer for all those months but it’s a question that will always, always hurt.
So, what do we do in the waiting? When we have prayers and promises of things yet to be answered. When we are yet to see God move in a particular area of our lives? This is a test of our faith, where the rubber hits the road.
I think we have to look heavenwards and not rely on our own strength. Look for answers in His Word so that we can stand firm in His promises. And wait, wait for Him to move.
Exodus 14.14-15 “Do not be afraid, Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today…The Lord will fight for you, you only need to be still”
Heavenly Father, for many of us these last few months have felt like that Holy Saturday - we’ve experienced loss of major life events, jobs, even loved ones. Help me to press into and lean into you, Lord. Give me the strength to stand firm and wait for your deliverance.