Jesus on Saturday
I feel like it’s the least talked about day on Easter. Thursday was solemn. Friday was tough. Sunday was victorious.
But Saturday must have been the worst day in history. “They killed him”, “is he really coming back?”, “what if..”, “we are next”.
What a day of dispair. I don’t imagine any of the disciples excited or happy or comforted. I imagine them anxious. I can almost feel their silence. Too hard to speak, too quiet to work, too silent to hope, too dark to see.
Silence. That’s all they got.
Sometimes when we most need it, that’s all we get. Silence. Seems like maybe it was all in our heads. Maybe it was just a childish dream. Time to grow up. Time to settle. Time to become one more of the pack. Time to forget. Time to accept that our dreams and heart were all too much.
Sometimes when we go to God for comfort, all we see is silence. A silent God feels like a distant God.
But Jesus was busy. Man, that’s some good news. Of course I genuinely believe that the disciples and most of his followers couldn’t see it. Actually, none could.
We now know the story, but we still feel like it’s Saturday in ours. And if Sunday came, it will come for you too.
He’s the One who lives forever, the beginning and the end, the author and consumer of our faith, the Almighty blessed One, the powerful, He is peace, and He is here. We didn’t know the story but now we do.
He is not silent. He’s just working for you. And your Sunday shall come too. I believe it. Even when I don’t always behave like I do, because I need that reminder too:
Sunday is coming. He is here for you.



