Good Friday has come and gone. Easter is not yet. All seems quiet. What will we do with the silence of Saturday?
SATURDAY, APRIL 20th
Passage for Reflection - Matthew 27:62-66
Reflecting on the Text:
On this Saturday, Matthew gives us no word from Jesus. His body is lying in the grave. He gives us no word from the disciples. They are mourning, wondering is this all there is. We only have the words of Jesus’ accusers, and of Pilate.
Ironically, they remembered Jesus’ words. They knew he said he would rise up on the third day. It wasn’t that they doubted. They just outright didn’t believe. But they wanted to make sure no one from the outside could get in, never once thinking it was the One inside who would burst out. So the religious leaders petitioned Pilate for a guard of soldiers. The petition was granted. The tomb sealed. The rivalry was finally squashed…at least for this day.
But the end was not in doubt. It had been declared by God the Father. It had been told by God the Son. He would rise victorious, and He WILL rise victorious. So the question before us this day is this: What will we do with the silence of Saturday? On that Saturday, the enemies of the Lord mounted their attack. On that Saturday, the disciples of the Lord didn’t know what to do. And from the silence of the text, it seems as if they retreated.
So how about us? On this Silent Saturday, we need to know there will be many more in our lives. Will we confuse the seeming silence with abandonment? Will we confuse the seeming silence with inability, or worse yet…non-existence? Will we retreat, allowing the attackers to destroy our faith? Or will we hold fast to the truth that God’s promise is sure and certain? Will we look back on that Silent Saturday and find strength for the future?
Questions for personal reflection:
Consider the moments when you feel alone and hope seems to be lost. In those moments, what voice is speaking the loudest? Your circumstances? Or the timeless and true Word of God?
We know the end of the Easter story. It did not end on Saturday. So how can the story of that Saturday sustain you in your times of seeming silence?