Holy Saturday
I grew up observing Good Friday and then on Easter. On Good Friday our family would go to church to remember Christ’s sacrifice for our sins. On Easter go again to sing “Alleluia” to our risen Lord.
But I don’t ever remember observing anything on the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter. Usually my dad would get us to cut the grass or do other spring chores in the yard. After all, Holy Saturday is the day when nothing happens. What would you even do if you went to church that day? What would you commemorate after the painful drama of Good Friday? How would it help in preparing for Resurrection Sunday? Barbara Brown Taylor describes my experience perfectly: “Holy Saturday was a placeholder, an empty set of parentheses, a waiting room for a train that would not come until morning.” Nothing going on that day, might as well do something in the yard.
Jesus was buried quickly before the sun went down on Friday because they did not want to violate the Sabbath day. Then he spent time in the grave, loosely wrapped in linen, his body lacking the oils and spices with which the dead were anointed. He waited. He rested. He didn’t do anything. And neither did his friends. They buried him and went home to rest and wait in good Sabbath fashion.
Holy Saturday calls me to rest, too.
How do I rest in Christ’s completed work? How do I let those words he said from the cross, “It is finished”, sink into my soul? Christ has died and all is done. I no longer have to do anything to save myself. It’s all done for me. All I need to do is receive it; accept his sacrifice as a gift. By his stripes I am healed. Holy Saturday is the day to let that finally sink in an settle in all the places it needs to in my soul.