Saturday

Imagine… it’s Saturday after Christ’s crucifixion. 

Despite His repeated claim that He’d rise again, darkness and doubt rolls in. And it’s hard to imagine anything less than dark grey clouds, the kind that bring a slow and constant rain. 

After the drama of yesterday, there’s no movement. All is still. For those who feared Him, the threat is extinguished. But for those who knew Him, it wasn’t as simple. A mixture of fear and grief was veiled in half-hearted anticipation and as much faith as they could muster. 

Yesterday’s events, the way they killed Him, it was all so... terrible, and strange, and final. They all knew what was happening, and yet couldn’t believe their eyes when it finally was over, and now could not imagine what will, or what must, happen next. 

Sadness. Grief. Confusion. Fear. Doubt. But not without a lingering sense of hope

This is not a distant or unfamiliar feeling for Christians. Even for us, on this side of our own resurrection, we know how Saturday feels. We wait now in anticipation of Christ’s return. And we too struggle to believe, and sometimes to understand. The time we have already waited, the disappointments we experience, the difficult circumstances and what seems like senseless pain, all threaten to dilute our faith in His promise. 

So, as we wait on this long, sometimes cloudy, Saturday - longing to see Him and be with Him forever, to be free from the very presence of sin and the penalty of death - we remember Sunday is coming. After all… 

He is faithful. 
He is wise. 
He is powerful. 
He will return just as He promised…

And then we too will be raised.