When Jesus Enters…Saturday

I hate Saturday.

More specifically, I hate THIS Saturday. I hate the period of waiting. Friday has a purpose. An awful, violent, terrible, wonderful, glorious, awesome purpose. Sunday has a purpose. A triumphant, expectant, fulfilling, hopeful purpose. But Saturday? What purpose is there in Saturday?

I hate the period of sitting in the pain.

I have often asked myself, “Why did Matthew and John not add anything about what the disciples did the day after the crucifixion?” I have asked, “Why didn’t Peter give Mark any information about what he was doing that day?” “Since Luke was so interested in presenting a well laid-out history of Jesus and the early church, why didn’t he explore the events of that day?”

Why don’t we know about Saturday?

What kind of shock, sadness, and disappointment set in after the disciples learned of Judas’ betrayal? What happened after everyone ran away from Gethsemane? What did Peter experience after hearing the rooster crow? Where did John go after being entrusted with the care of Mary, mother of Jesus?

I’m not sure why I want to know about that day so badly. Maybe because I want to know if the disciples felt the same way I feel:

I hate sitting in the pain of Saturday.

Back in the Old Testament, Job’s friends show up to mourn with him. For 7 days, they do a great job. They sit in silence with Job. They tear their robes, just as he did; they cover themselves with ashes, just as he did. It was comforting.

But then they opened their mouths and ruined everything.

Sitting in the pain of their friend was the best thing they could have done. No words were needed. No actions could have lessened the pain Job had experienced. All that was needed was silence and sharing the pain of their friend.

Just before Jesus entered Jerusalem, He visited some friends whose brother had just died. When Jesus entered the village, He knew He was going to raise Lazarus from the dead. He knew what was about to happen. He knew the joy that was about to be experienced. But when He saw Mary and Martha, His heart broke. When He saw the grief of all those gathered, Jesus wept.

Jesus sat in the pain with His friends. He shared in their sorrow. Whatever was going to happen in the future—even the near future—did not matter. Jesus was present in the pain of the moment.

I hate sitting in the pain of Saturday. Yet it is still necessary to do so. Between the pain, grief, and sorrow of death and the joy, triumph, and victory of resurrection comes the period of pain.

And that is where we sit today. But the story is not complete.

There is still more to come…

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