Easter Saturday
How an Instagram post changed my Easter.
I came across an Instagram post from Erin Moon (COO of one of my favorite podcasts) that framed my Easter this year. People have a lot to say about social media (which is interesting considering it’s part of my job), but I firmly believe that if you wade through and follow well, it can be a lovely place. I have been encouraged and challenged through it, and her post on the Saturday before Easter was equal parts both.
Easter weekend was a bit abnormal for us this year since we spent a lot of it in a car driving back from our trip to South Carolina. As we followed the winding road through the towering mountains, I came across her post. There are certain moments that take hold in your mind and for me, this will be one of them. I’ll always remember our morning surrounded by walls of rock and trees, reading the words of a woman I have never met that traveled straight to my heart.
They put their hope in Him, just like He said they could, but this day must have been so bleak.
We only have one sentence in scripture that gives us any clues. The second half of Luke 23:26 says that since it was the Sabbath, they rested. I’ve often wondered how the authors of the Gospels felt when they went to record this particular day. The excitement and terror of Jesus’s arrest and death were over. They watched as their Lord’s body was placed in a tomb. They had no idea that Sunday was coming. For all they knew, it was over.
There are so many unknowns to this day. Maybe you feel like you’re standing vigil in your own life, wondering if rescue or joy will come. Perhaps you’re in a place of life you never thought you’d be, maybe you’re resentful of that place. It’s possible you feel stuck or confused by the waiting. In the unknowns, in the waiting, in the stuck, we can continue to move in faith, to do, as my friend Emily P. Freeman says, the next right thing.
If you’ve ever been in despair you know how these men and women felt. The loneliness, the grief, the heartache. Dreams shattered. But we get a picture of how to respond to this kind of devastation from the women that surrounded Jesus. They knew His body needed to be properly tended to, so that’s what they did. It wasn’t where the woman thought they would be, but they knew what they had to do. Jesus’ death could have paralyzed them but they put one foot in front of the other, and God did not disappoint. They were faith in moving in the rhythms of reliance, despite the circumstances. And how richly were they rewarded? These women were the first to see Christ resurrected!
When we’re standing vigil in our own lives, it is difficult to see past our Saturdays. We hold our breath and wonder if we’ve been forgotten or misplaced, or shelved. We doubt the promises that were true earlier.
There is more to Jesus than we ever thought possible. Sunday is coming.
-Erin Hicks Moon, @erinhmoon
I have never given this particular span of time a lot of thought. We entrench ourselves in the agony of Good Friday and joyfully celebrate the victory that Easter Sunday brings. Saturday is often a lost day-no title, no service, no songs attributed to it, no particular recognition.
Erin’s words helped me travel back and try to envision what this day was like for Jesus’ family and friends. Like she said, they didn’t know that Sunday was coming. Instead, they were sitting in the heartache we are filled with each Good Friday. I can’t imagine the suffering spirits of this group that didn’t know that Jesus would rise from that tomb…that he would be “bursting forth in glorious day” as one of my favorite songs so sweetly describes it.
I often find myself forgetting that Jesus had human, true blue relationships while He was here on earth. Imagine his circle of people on this disorienting day…disciples who had loyally followed him as He performed miracles and healed the sick. The mother who gave birth to him in a stall and watched as they crucified him on a cross. The friends who shared a table with Him as he spoke hope into their lives away from the crowds and court of public opinion.
It’s difficult to grasp just how profound their loss must have felt…to not know that Sunday would be one of the brightest days in human history. I love the beautiful way that Erin’s words painted the women that came to tend to Jesus’ body. These women waded through grief to do what was needed to care for him, even in death. What a profound display of how they loved him.
Clearly, this Instagram post left me lost in a sea of Saturday thoughts. She referenced us standing vigil ourselves…how there are moments where we sit and question and wonder and wrestle with who God is and why His timing feels different than ours. Mentally, we begin to travel down roads that bring us to questions like, “Is God present even in…this?” Frankly, it’s easier to quickly exit stage right on Good Friday for a more comfortable Easter morning. But, maybe there’s lessons to be learned from the Saturdays of waiting.
This Easter, I tried to frame the days differently. Instead of skipping Saturday, I attempted to put myself in the shoes of Jesus’ dearest friends and family members in that space of time in the in-between. I tried to grasp the loss they witnessed without the understanding of an impending victory of His body and spirit. I tried to sit at the foot of the cross grieving the public humiliation of the individual you believed with your entire soul was the Savior of the world. I tried to think of how it would have felt to think maybe evil gets the final say.
Spending time in the Saturday changed my approach to these three days. Still humbled, still hopeful, just allowing more care for this forgotten day in our beloved Easter story. May I remember to give space to the Saturday; understanding its place along the path to rolling that stone away.
Easter Saturday this year: in a car, in the hills of Tennessee, in my travel sweats. Holding vigil. Feeling grateful that I get to know the rest…that Sunday is right around the corner.
Here is love unbounded.
Here is all compassion.
Here is mercy founded.
Oh great Redeemer.
Oh Prince of Glory.
Here is hope.
-Lamb of God, Rob Gardner
Sincerely,
Ashley