It is FinishedSýnishorn

Silent Saturday

The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve come to realize the gravity of Silent Saturday. The immediate trauma of Good Friday had passed, but Resurrection Sunday was still 24 hours away. And those left behind were faced with a question that we are often faced with. What do you do in the middle? In the middle of trauma and deliverance?

Those who were grieving had witnessed not only the brutal execution of Jesus, but all the other strange phenomena that accompanied Christ’s death: earthquakes, midday darkness, the tearing of the temple veil, and more. So what did they do? What do we do?

Rest.

Those who were left behind were called to rest, because it was Christ who was doing the work. Christ was at work defeating the devil in the bowels of Hell, reclaiming what was His to begin with. It was Christ with the agenda, not us. It was Christ on the warpath, not us. It was Christ who was doing, not us.

When recovering from grief and trauma, the reactions are varied to be sure, but often doing nothing (what our souls might crave) is harder to carry out. Surely there is another phone call to be made, another closet to clean out, another demand to make, another list to record. But to rest, completely?

It astounds me that God planned for the execution to take place on a Friday, knowing that the Jews, steeped in the centuries-old tradition of Sabbath would know they would have to honor this day of rest. He planned the Great Sacrifice on our day off. 

Were they relieved for a moment to catch their breath? Or did they chafe under the religious traditions, wishing they could do something, anything, to undo the horror of the past 48 hours?

Whatever your "Silent Saturday" is, whatever seemingly unanswered prayers face you, whatever traumas you are trying to heal from, know that you can rest, knowing your Father is at work. 

Resurrection is just around the corner.