We have recently celebrated Holy Week with its tragic Friday event and the victorious Resurrection Sunday.
But the day in the middle – the silent Saturday – lives on in many of our lives.
It must have been the darkest day for those early believers. Their Savior was dead and the resurrection was only a prophecy they weren’t sure would become reality.
Discouragement. Frustration. Doubt.
In hindsight, we know the end of the story. But silent Saturdays continue to haunt many present day believers.
We have come to faith, considered the meaning behind the crucifixion and based our lives on its Gospel message. We know Christ lives and will return again. The Holy Spirit gifts us and guides us. All that is good.
Yet many of us still dwell within our personal silences:
- The woman who has prayed for her abusive husband, now going on 28 years. She believes yet the answer waits behind the veil of Saturday’s silence. He continues to abuse her. She continues to stay because she believes God has asked her to.
- The man who needs a job to support his family. He is trained, highly educated with stellar references, yet his silent Saturday continues. His hope dries like brittle resumé
- The family that has journeyed through cancer with a beloved child. Every remission brings hope. Then another tumor interrupts hope. Their silent Saturdays revolve around chemo, radiation treatments and the fear that constantly threatens.
- The spouse who sits beside his beloved – a woman who no longer recognizes him. Alzheimer’s has stolen his resurrection joy because her afflicted brain is wrapped in the tentacles of a silent Saturday.
- The writers who persevere , waiting for that first book contract
- The hostages who pray for release
- The marginalized who fight for equality and wonder how many years and how many court dates exist between Friday and Sunday
At some point in life, we all struggle to endure another day – to somehow crawl past our silent Saturdays into victorious Sunday.
But the waiting continues and requires courage to keep breathing, keep struggling, keep hoping.
Answers hide within the loving heart of God as our “Why” questions echo off canyon walls of aloneness.
Yet the only hope we truly have is to repeat the glorious cries of those early believers. “He is not here.” Resurrection dawns.
Someday time will morph into eternity. Silent Saturdays will no longer exist and we will understand why we needed to wait so long.
All we can do now is cling to the hope that Sunday will return. Then we will forever be finished with the silence.