After these things, Joseph of Arimathea, who was a disciple of Jesus, though a secret one because of his fear of the Jews, asked Pilate to let him take away the body of Jesus. Pilate gave him permission, so he came and removed his body. Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about a hundred pounds. 

They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews. Now there was a garden in the place where he was crucified, and in the garden there was a new tomb in which no one had ever been laid. And so, because it was the Jewish day of Preparation and the tomb was nearby, they laid Jesus there. (New Revised Standard Version)

Today is Holy Saturday – a quiet place sandwiched between the ignominy of the cross and the celebration of resurrection – a day of solitude, silence, and stillness. 

This isn’t a particularly popular day. People don’t rave about Holy Saturday, in fact, many Christians haven’t had a thought that this day could have any significance. Yet, this very day has its place in the scheme of the Christian life.

There cannot be resurrection and new life without a death and dying to self. There must be suffering before there can be glory. Whenever Christians quickly jump to triumphal language about victory and speak little-to-nothing about suffering, then we are left with a cheap grace which has been purchased with the counterfeit currency of velocity. 

This day is meant for us to get out of our heads and wrap our hearts around the important reality that Jesus Christ was truly in the grave – very much dead. 

It was real suffering on Good Friday, and it is a real death in the grave on Holy Saturday. There is no movement.  All is silent and still. Jesus is in the solitude of a dark tomb. 

My friends, there is absolutely no getting around the fact that if we want a Resurrection Day with all its celebration and glory, then we cannot and must not circumvent Holy Saturday. 

On Holy Saturday, Christ’s disciples were experiencing an awful and real grief. Jesus suffered. He was tortured and humiliated. Jesus died. It was surreal for the disciples. They could barely believe there could ever be a day like today. Their Lord was dead and buried in a tomb.

Holy Saturday sits us down and asks some hard questions:

• Are you ready to follow Jesus and suffer as he did? 
• Are you willing to stop your striving, manifested through constant movement, and embrace solitude, silence, stillness with its contemplation and embrace of suffering?
• Will you have sense enough to pray? 
• Will you practice a Christian counter-cultural shift and face the ridicule of friends so that you might take some much-needed time to be with Jesus in the tomb?
• Are you so antsy and anxious that you just want to leap into Easter with no solidarity with your Lord who is in the grave?

You may think that I’m being a bit too hard, or harsh, or cold…. That’s because Jesus is cold. He has a bonified cold dead body. It’s no fake death. There’s no “swoon theory” here, as if Christ only passed-out and did a weird divine fainting spell. No, he is dead. And if you and I want to live with Jesus, we must die with Jesus. 

Anyone who tries to promise a new life apart from journeying with Jesus into the grave is a spiritual charlatan. 

Only through death can there be life. 

On this Holy Saturday, let us intentionally slow down, do less, give ourselves a large chunk of unstructured time, and put aside routine things for a while. In its place, fill the time with unfettered access to God in Christ.

O God, Creator of heaven and earth: Grant that, as the crucified body of your dear Son was laid in the tomb and rested on this holy Sabbath, so may we await with him the coming of the third day, and rise with him to newness of life; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.