Holy Saturday (John 19:38-42)

The Entombment, by the French sculptor Maître de Chaource, 16th century

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.

Listen (Jeremiah 42:18-22)

This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: ‘As my anger and wrath have been poured out on those who lived in Jerusalem, so will my wrath be poured out on you when you go to Egypt. You will be a curse and an object of horror, a curse and an object of reproach; you will never see this place again.’

“Remnant of Judah, the Lord has told you, ‘Do not go to Egypt.’ Be sure of this: I warn you today that you made a fatal mistake when you sent me to the Lord your God and said, ‘Pray to the Lord our God for us; tell us everything he says and we will do it.’ I have told you today, but you still have not obeyed the Lord your God in all he sent me to tell you. So now, be sure of this: You will die by the sword, famine and plague in the place where you want to go to settle.” (New International Version)

We all find ourselves in trouble at one time or another. The real issue is whether we’re in trouble for no fault of our own, or if we’re in dire straits because of our own stubbornness and stupidity.

God tends to take a lot of flack from us humans, whenever we are in the middle of trouble. Yet, much of the time, it’s our own dang fault for not listening to God in the first place.

Whenever other people are hard-hearted and unjust, we’re ready for some divine judgment to happen. But when it’s me, all I want is some mercy and grace, some understanding and acknowledgment of my predicament. We have got to realize that what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.

Talk can be cheap. The ancient people of Judah verbally affirmed their dedication to doing what God would tell them to do. And then, like some sort of spiritual dementia, they seemed to forget everything they said, and turned around to disobey all they heard from God.

It all came down to an issue of trust. The people looked to Egypt for their deliverance from the Babylonian army, instead of turning their faces toward God and doing exactly what the Lord wanted.

So, the Lord, an ever-present power much like the force of gravity, let the people know that if they’re going to ignore that force, they’ll end up falling and breaking their bodies.

People make mistakes. They do stupid things. And they sin against God and others. It happens. But how we respond to it all is highly important. If we don’t learn from our missteps, and choose to keep living without adjusting our lives to God’s abiding presence in the world, we can expect trouble.

A prudent person foresees danger and takes precautions.
    The simpleton goes blindly on and suffers the consequences. (Proverbs 27:12, NLT)

The ancient people of Judah had already suffered one Babylonian invasion. Now they were faced with yet another. The people wanted to flee. But their looking to Egypt was not a wise avoidance; it was an attempt to stick their heads in the sand, to put their fingers in their ears and shut tight their eyes. Instead, they needed to stay put and face the music.

The prophet Jeremiah reminded the people that, in this situation, there was a dual danger: It’s bad to go to Egypt, so don’t do it; and it’s really bad to disobey God, so listen and do what the Lord says.

Ignorance puts everyone in jeopardy. To follow through with plans that are diametrically opposed to what God has specifically said not to do, puts the entire community in the grip of a death sentence. After all, the Lord already knows what’s up and what’s going to happen if we foolishly amble into a hornet’s nest of trouble on top of trouble.

Whenever people are cursed, it’s typically because they refuse to listen; they don’t heed the warnings and end up doing something out of their anxiety, instead of acting with wisdom.

Unnecessary suffering comes from disobedience. Disobedience is a result of ignorance. And ignorance comes from purposefully not listening to sage advice, divine commands, and the wisdom of the ages.

It all comes down to giving focused attention so that we might hear and heed the voice of God. This is why the spiritual practices of solitude, silence, stillness, and contemplative and centering prayers are so very important. It puts us in a position to listen with open ears and receptive hearts.

The following are four guidelines of centering prayer, offered by one of the masters of this form, Father Thomas Keating, Intimacy with God: An Introduction to Centering Prayer:

  1. Choose a sacred word as the symbol of your intention to consent to God’s presence and action within.
  2. Sitting comfortably and with eyes closed, settle briefly, and silently introduce the sacred word as the symbol of your consent to God’s presence and action within.
  3. When engaged with your thoughts, body sensations, feelings, images, and reflections, return ever-so-gently to the sacred word.
  4. At the end of the prayer period, remain in silence with eyes closed for a couple of minutes.

The best way to avoid unnecessary trouble, heed biblical warnings, and listen to the divine is by aspiring and dedicating oneself to a genuine spiritual life.

St. John of the Cross, a spiritual giant of a prayerful and listening life, wrote in the sixteenth century, “God spoke one word from all eternity and he spoke it in silence, and it is in silence that we hear it.”

The reason God is so often silent, is that silence is God’s first language; all other verbal languages are but poor translations. Centering ourselves in prayer is a needed preparation for the contemplation that enables us to hear and listen well to the language of God.

Perhaps if the people in Jeremiah’s day did so, they would not have found themselves in such a dire predicament.

Almighty and everlasting God, make me ready, when your voice is truly heard, so that I may respond with glad obedience glad and steady devotion, silent and still to follow every word. Speak, Lord, for I am listening. Amen.

In the Place of Life (1 Peter 4:1-6)

Therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude, because whoever suffers in the body is done with sin. As a result, they do not live the rest of their earthly lives for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God. For you have spent enough time in the past doing what pagans choose to do—living in debauchery, lust, drunkenness, orgies, carousing and detestable idolatry. They are surprised that you do not join them in their reckless, wild living, and they heap abuse on you. But they will have to give account to him who is ready to judge the living and the dead. For this is the reason the gospel was preached even to those who are now dead, so that they might be judged according to human standards in regard to the body, but live according to God in regard to the spirit. (New International Version)

I haven’t been a confessing Christian my entire life. And so, I can relate to Peter’s exhortation. I still remember what it feels like to live my life without any thought to God or spiritual matters. I also have many memories of giving my life to Christ and, for years, having people puzzled as to why I didn’t want to join them in activities which would clearly diminish my spirit and suck the soul out of me.

The thing about partying and immorality is that it’s a life filled with constant movement. Slowing down only makes one come face-to-face with what is truly inside the soul. And if someone has an empty vacuous soul, or a damaged spirit, or a broken heart, then attempting to drink or work away the inner pain makes sense when there’s no regard for God. 

The last thing I ever wanted to do was suffer, yet before my own spiritual awakening, it seemed I could never outrun the hurt no matter how hard I tried, even with all the constant locomotion.

But I found in a committed Christianity the slow and quiet place I so desperately needed. I discovered in ancient Christian practices of solitude, silence, and stillness the opportunity of finding my true self.

There are times in our lives when we need to explore the place between our hurting hearts and the hunting for joy. It’s actually a quiet place sandwiched between the ignominy of the cross and the celebration of resurrection. 

Within the geography of the soul, this is something of a lost country for many folks. Some people have never had the thought that such a place even exists. Yet, this is the very place which gives meaning and focus to a disjointed and frenetic lifestyle.

To be even more specific and focused, there cannot be a better life, a new life without a death to the old life and dying to self. There must be suffering before there can be glory.

I’m a heady sort of guy. Most things, for me, have to go through my brain. Although I have come to appreciate and value my heart and my gut, I still find myself sometimes gravitating toward my intellect as the answer for my stress. Yet, there are many times (maybe even most times) when I really need to get out of my head, connect to my gut, and wrap my heart around whatever problem or challenge is before me. 

I have been a devoted follower of Jesus for many decades now. Yet, I still encounter a sizable chunk of Christians who devalue the place between the real suffering on Good Friday, along with the very real death of Holy Saturday. In the tomb, there is no movement. All is silent and still. 

Jesus was in the solitude of a dark tomb. So, there’s no getting around it. If we want a Resurrection Day with all its celebration and glory, then we cannot circumvent the place of darkness and stillness.

To be a Christian means a readiness to follow Jesus and suffer as he did. It involves a willingness to stop our striving, manifested through constant movement, and embrace the disciplines of solitude, silence, and stillness with its contemplation and radical acceptance of what is – and not just what we want something to be. 

This requires the sense enough to pray and please a higher power than fair weather friends. It demands a Christian counter-cultural shift to face the ridicule of friends so that we might take some much-needed time to be with Jesus in his life, ministry, suffering, death, resurrection, and ascension.

Put plainly and bluntly: If you and I want to live with Jesus, we must die with Jesus.

I could give you ten steps to having a better life, but this would ultimately mean nothing apart from the willingness to spend some time and sit in the place of suffering and death.

And, ironically, in doing so, we find the life that is truly life, and discover a way of existence which is far greater and better than we could have ever dreamed.

Merciful and almighty God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, we submit ourselves to you, knowing that our lives are in the hands of a gracious and sovereign Being who cares deeply for all creation and every creature. May our longings for transcendence result in the deep and good desires of our hearts to be met fully in Christ, who with you and the Holy Spirit are one God, now and forever. Amen.

Holy Saturday (Psalm 31:1-4, 15-16)

In you, O Lord, I seek refuge;
    do not let me ever be put to shame;
    in your righteousness deliver me.
Incline your ear to me;
    rescue me speedily.
Be a rock of refuge for me,
    a strong fortress to save me.

You are indeed my rock and my fortress;
    for your name’s sake lead me and guide me;
take me out of the net that is hidden for me,
    for you are my refuge….

My times are in your hand;
    deliver me from the hand of my enemies and persecutors.
Let your face shine upon your servant;
    save me in your steadfast love. (New Revised Standard Version)

Holy Saturday is 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. Many Christians haven’t even a thought that this day could have any significance. Yet, this very day has its place in the scheme of the Christian life.

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. 

Today is meant for us to get of our heads and wrap our hearts around the important reality that Jesus Christ was truly and bodily dead in the grave. 

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

There’s no getting around this: If we want Resurrection Day with all its celebration and glory, then we cannot circumvent Holy Saturday with its quiet silence and somber sadness. 

Holy Saturday must be observed if we are to experience real and practical freedom from the bondage of shame. And shame is powerful. It keeps a person locked within themselves, alone with their secrets hidden far from others.

Far too often we may try and cope with our shameful words or actions through promising to work harder, pledging to have greater willpower, or complaining that life is unfair. None of this gets to the root of our shame.

Unlike guilt, which our conscience identifies as specific behaviors to repent of, shame is the message of our inner critic who obnoxiously decries that we are somehow flawed, not enough, and inherently lacking intelligence, courage, or volition.

Shame is the insidious mechanism which interprets bad events we experience as the result of our own badness. In other words, we didn’t just do something bad – we ourselves are bad. We reason (wrongly) that if we were good, bad things wouldn’t happen to us.

If that were true, we would need a serious re-interpretation of Jesus, who suffered terribly and was killed. In actuality, he’s lying in a cold grave because of the power of evil in the world, and not because he was personally culpable.

Shame is the vampire who lives in the shadows and feeds on secrets – which is why the posture of shame is to hide our face in our hands. If shame persists, we withdraw from others and experience grinding loneliness. 

Therefore, the path out of shame is to openly name our shame and tell our stories, that is, nailing the stake of vulnerability into the heart of shame, and exposing it to the light, causes it to disintegrate and vaporize.

In contrast to the unhealthy hiding of ourselves within prison walls of shame is seeking refuge and hiding ourselves in God. Even a cursory look at today’s psalm evidences an open and vulnerable person who wants nothing to do with shame. The psalmist unabashedly and without shame is quite forward in presenting his wants to God.

The psalms are meant for repeated use, to be voiced aloud again and again. In doing this simple activity, we shame-proof our lives. God’s face shines upon us and takes away the shadows of shame. It is no coincidence that Jesus forsook the shame of the cross through publicly uttering the words of this psalm: “Into your hands I commit my spirit.” (Luke 23:46)

Unchecked verbal violence will eventually lead to physical violence.

If wordy persecution comes from others, the primary tactic will most likely be shaming the people such persons want to control. Such enemies will frame a justification for violence because the people for whom they are leveling shame are “bad,” even “monsters.” If verbal persecution comes from within, the shame can reach a critical mass of suicidal ideation and perhaps outright attempts at ending one’s life.

We cannot long co-exist with the living death of shame. But the good news is that we don’t have to. Instead, we can live in the strong fortress and the rock of refuge which is God.

The Lord traffics in redeeming mercy and steadfast love, not in the demeaning judgment of shame. We can flee to God and find grace to help us in our time of need. There is no shame in reaching out for help. We all need deliverance from something. It’s a matter of whether we are open to ask for it, or not.

Holy Saturday is here for you to know that Jesus Christ absorbed all of the world’s massive shame, yesterday, on Good Friday. Christ died. And the shame he took on, died with him. It’s no more and will rise no more.

But someone will rise….

Father God, into your hands I commit my spirit – everything I am and all that I hope to be – so that Jesus Christ might be exalted in me through the power of your Holy Spirit. I choose to leave shame where it belongs – nailed to the cross. With your divine enablement, I shall walk in the newness of life through expressing my needs and wants with courage, confidence, and candor. May it be so according to your steadfast love. Amen.