As this is the weekend of Holy Week, we step out of our practice of offering an instrumental reflection on Saturday to instead offer a song that is very appropriate for today.
Words of Reflection
Today is the final day of Lent.
It is called a number of different things in various church traditions:
Holy Saturday
Great and Holy Saturday
The Great Sabbath
Hallelujah Saturday
Saturday of the Gloria
Black Saturday
Joyous Saturday
The Saturday of Light
That’s quite a range, if you think about it. What intrigues me is that, apart from “Black Saturday,” all of these titles for today have a fairly positive connotation: it’s holy, great, joyous, filled with light and hallelujahs.
I’m not usually one to argue with centuries of church tradition, but that is not what the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter brings to mind for me. Every year on this day my mind wanders back to a group of friends and disciples, scattered and frightened, wondering what had just happened. The one in whom they trusted, the one they looked to as “rabbi,” the one they saw as the long-awaited Christ of God, lay dead in a tomb. Looking back, we can be tempted to shake our heads and wonder at their cluelessness. Didn’t Jesus tell them he’d be raised? Didn’t he assure them, “In a little while you will see me no more, and then after a little while you will see me” (John 16:16) in a clear promise of his resurrection? What’s their deal?
Their deal is…they’re human.
We can’t begin to imagine the shock and grief that swept over their souls as they processed what had just taken place. One of their own betrayed Jesus. Their friend and teacher was falsely accused, brutally tortured, and subjected to the most painful and humiliating death possible. Even a brief moment of hope for release was dashed when the crowd chose Barabbas over Jesus. Add to that the fear that they themselves could be next. We can’t enter into that depth of emotion 2,000 years later.
We don’t know what the disciples did on Saturday. It was the Sabbath, after all, so they probably did very little. But I can’t help but imagine…did any of them brave going outside in their grief, perhaps taking a walk to view the tomb? Probably not, given the fact that the tomb was guarded, but I know it would have been a temptation had I been there. In my grief, pain, and disappointment, I would want to go and just sit near the tomb while I poured out my anger and frustration to God. I would have so many questions:
How could you let this happen?
Was it all a lie?
What am I supposed to do now?
Where were you?
Where are you?
As I picture that garden tomb on Saturday, my heart and soul are filled with the reality that on that particular day the answers would not be found. On that day the questions would most likely be met by a resounding silence. Yes, on the next day it would be broken, but for now…it is silence.
We may not be able to enter into the hearts and minds of the disciples on that day, but we do know that silence. Any Christian who says they have not at one time or another wrestled with the sense that God is silent is not being completely honest with themselves. We all have seasons where the questions echo in what seems to be empty space. It’s not empty, but in that moment it most decidedly seems so.
The mystery of God’s silence is a good one to sit with on this day. As we sit with that mystery, we can identify with Christ’s disciples, if only in a small way. And we can pray for all those who are sitting with that silence in a very real way right now. If it were up to me, this day would be called “Silent Saturday,” which in itself is an invitation.
Tomorrow that silence will give way to a resounding “Hallelujah,” but for today…let’s remember that this, too, is holy ground.
Scripture for Meditation:
How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing the Lord’s praise,
for he has been good to me.
—Psalm 13 (NIV)
Song: The Silence of God
It's enough to drive a man crazy; it'll break a man's faith
It's enough to make him wonder if he's ever been sane
When he's bleating for comfort from Thy staff and Thy rod
And the heaven's only answer is the silence of GodIt'll shake a man's timbers when he loses his heart
When he has to remember what broke him apart
This yoke may be easy, but this burden is not
When the crying fields are frozen by the silence of GodBut when you have to listen to the voices of the mob
Who are reeling in the throes of all the happiness they've got
When they tell you all their troubles have been nailed up to that cross
Then what about the times when even followers get lost?
'Cause we all get lost sometimes...There's a statue of Jesus on a monastery knoll
In the hills of Kentucky, all quiet and cold
He's kneeling in the garden, as silent as a stone
And all His friends are sleeping and He's weeping all aloneAnd the man of all sorrows, he never forgot
What sorrow is carried by the hearts that he bought
So when the questions dissolve into the silence of God
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not
In the holy, lonesome echo of the silence of God
Andrew Peterson
© 2003 New Spring
Praying at the Foot of the Cross:
How do you think you would have spent that Saturday so long ago if you were one of Jesus’ followers? What emotions would sit at the forefront of your soul? How does imagining their experience help us prepare for our Easter celebration?
Have you had seasons of your life when God has seemed silent? Offer to God your own “Silent Saturdays” and your willingness to sit in that mystery.
Spend some time prayerfully considering this quote from Oswald Chambers:
“When you cannot hear God, you will find that He has trusted you in the most intimate way possible— with absolute silence, not a silence of despair, but one of pleasure, because He saw that you could withstand an even bigger revelation. If God has given you a silence, then praise Him— He is bringing you into the mainstream of His purposes.”—Oswald Chamber, My Utmost for His Highest (Oct. 11)