The Saddest, Most Silent of All Saturdays

Coming up this week are two important days on the Christian calendar, Good Friday and Easter. But little thought is given to the day in between, a day we could call Silent Saturday.

 

Jesus Christ, the one who had performed miracles, including healing the sick and lame, raising the dead, feeding multitudes, walking on water, and teaching radical truths about God, had been crucified. His closest disciples, who had left their comfortable, accustomed lives to follow Him, had lost their leader.

The range of emotions they must have experienced was vast: anger, grief, confusion, disbelief. Guilt would have been another. One of the 12, Judas Iscariot the traitor, who had turned Jesus over to the Jewish leaders and Roman authorities, had taken his own life by hanging from a tree. 

 

But each of the remaining disciples, in his own way, also had betrayed Jesus, whom they had embraced as their Lord. When He was arrested, they all had scattered. Two of the disciples, John and Peter, did follow the procession after the arrest furtively, watching the mock trial proceedings from a distance. Peter, afraid of what would happen if his association with Jesus were exposed, vocally denied Him three times when asked if he was one of Jesus’ disciples.

 

Can you imagine what was going through their minds and hearts on the day after Jesus’ death and burial in a rich man’s tomb? Surely there was no laughter. There might have been quiet tears, but most likely there was wordless despair as their hopes and dreams seemingly lay in shambles. After the horrors of that Friday, with the banging of dagger-sized nails being hammered into flesh, cries of pain and anguish from Jesus and the two criminals crucified on His left and right, and the loud weeping of the women who had followed and served Him, the next day must have been dreadfully silent.

 

The Scriptures tell us Jesus’ most dear followers had gathered together “with doors locked for fear of the Jews” (John 20:19). “What do we do now?” was likely a question repeating in each of their minds. For three years they had literally taken marching orders from Jesus, traveling to various parts of Judea; now the leader of their march had been slain.

 

In the gospels we read nothing specifically about how the disciples spent that Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath. The only thing we know for certain is that Pontius Pilate, the Roman leader who had authorized Jesus’ execution, decided to take action to ensure that the body of Christ would be kept secure.

 

“The chief priests and the Pharisees went to Pilate. ‘Sir,’ They said, ‘we remember that while He was alive that deceiver said, “After three days I will rise again.” So give the order for the tomb to be made secure until the third day. Otherwise, His disciples may come and steal the body and tell the people that He has been raised from the dead. The last deception will be worse than the first.’”

 

Pilate concurred, ordering, “‘Take a guard. Go, make the tomb as secure as you know how.’ So they went and made the tomb secure by putting a seal on the stone and posting the guard” (Matthew 27:62-66).

 

Other than that brief, factual report, the Scriptures tell us nothing else about that silent Saturday. Each of the gospel accounts jumps directly from the details of the crucifixion and burial to “the first day of the week” (Matthew 28:1, Mark 16,2, Luke 24:1, John 20:1). So, we’re left to our imaginations as to what was happening in the lives of Peter, John, Andrew, Matthew and the others.

 

Thankfully, as somber and silent as that Sabbath must have been, it was like God pressing the heavenly pause button. Because the next day – Sunday – would be filled with shouts, cries of jubilation and celebration unlike anything ever witnessed in the world before. 

 

In fact, it was while the disciples were huddling behind closed, locked doors that Jesus suddenly appeared to them, declaring, “‘Peace be with you!’ After He said this, He showed them His hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord” (John 20:19-20).

Best of all, that’s not the end of the story. In fact, it’s just the beginning. Which explains why the words from the now-famous sermon by pastor S.M. Lockridge resonate so strongly and loudly today: “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s Coming.” 

Taking Truth to the Negotiating Table?

It’s time to revisit a topic in the forefront of many people’s minds these days. Pontius Pilate, confronted with what to do with Jesus, whom religious leaders regarded as rabble-rouser at best and outright threat at worst, famously asked, “What is truth?” (John 18:38). Lots of people these days seem to be wondering the same thing.

We tend to treat truth as a negotiable commodity, like going into a grocery store and choosing between brands and flavors of jelly (or jam or preserves), kinds of deli meat, or varieties of cereal. Everyone likes multiple choices, don’t we? 

If you’re old enough, you remember having only three TV stations – or if you’re not that old, about a dozen cable channels. Boring, right? (Today we have hundreds of channels from which to choose, and still can’t find anything worth watching!) When cars were invented, Henry Ford said something like, “You can have your Model T in any color you want – as long as it’s black.” Can you conceive of not having dozens of makes, models, sizes and styles of cars, vans, SUVs and trucks, not to mention color schemes or accessory options?

Lots of folks view spirituality the same way. They recoil at the notion that there could be such a thing as absolute spiritual truth. I read this post recently on social media: 

“One can believe they have a corner on the truth and God’s will, but that would be true of any number of people from any number of religions.” 

In other words, who’s to say that Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and all the other “isms” aren’t equally true? (Despite the fact that even a cursory comparison reveals they differ greatly on many key points, often diametrically opposed and irreconcilable.)

Should we agree that truth is simply a matter of what’s right in the eyes of the beholder? As long as one is sincere – or convinced? Kumbaya, anyone?

Well, drawing cues from everyday life we discover truth isn’t nearly so negotiable. Take, for example, commonplace realities like gravity, blood, or even roadways.

What would you think of someone who said, “I’m jumping off this cliff. My truth says I won’t fall, that instead I’ll soar like an eagle”? Gravity has little interest in what our “truth” tells us. What goes up must come down, like it or not.

If we need a blood transfusion, in most cases a blood type matching our own is required. Tomato juice or red fruit punch won’t do; not even blood from a cow or a camel. No matter what someone decides they want their “truth” about their blood to be, the type of blood they have is the type they will need.

Many roadways are very clearly designated for one way. Especially highways. We don’t want some driver deciding “her truth” says it’s okay to drive south in the northbound lane. We’ve all heard about what happens when one person’s truth collides with someone else’s truth on the interstate.

There’s a tendency to balk when we’re told there’s only one way to achieve a desired objective. But imagine a passenger of the Titanic, struggling to stay afloat in the frigid waters as the fabled ocean liner sinks to the ocean floor. (This is shortly after the ship captain’s “truth” told him the Titanic was unsinkable, and that there couldn’t be an iceberg in the vicinity poised to rip a hole in the ship’s hull.) 

A lifeboat comes across the frantic passenger treading water. There’s room for one more person in the lifeboat, and it’s the swimmer’s last chance for survival. Yet he emphatically refuses to climb in, insisting he’ll wait for a larger rescue boat. His own “truth” convinces him this isn’t his one and only option. How long do you think his truth would keep him alive?

For this reason, when we read Jesus make the seemingly audacious statement,“I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6), we should at least take a moment to consider the magnitude of His claim. Many argue, “Jesus is the only way? No way!” Then they move along pursuing their own way, their “truth.”

But Jesus didn’t make that assertion just once. He made it clear truth was of eminent importance for Him, such as the time He addressed the esteemed Pharisees: “Jesus said to them, ‘If God were your Father, you would love me, for I have come here from God. I have not come on my own; God sent me…. You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies. Yet because I tell the truth, you do not believe me!’" (John 8:42-45).

Harsh, tough words, right? Jesus apparently hadn’t read Dale Carnegie’s book about how to win friends and influence people. But sometimes there’s no soft-pedaling, no sugarcoating the truth.

If He were standing among us today, I believe Jesus would say the same thing. As He told Jews who were following Him, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32).

And how can we find this truth? How can we know it? Jesus gave this answer as well: "When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father – the Spirit of truth who goes out from the Father – he will testify about me” (John 15:26). 

Good Four-Way Test

Years ago I was a member of the Rotary Club in the metropolis of Tomball, Texas (about 30 miles from Houston), but until a couple weeks ago I’d forgotten about a cornerstone philosophy for every good Rotarian.

I was at a Rotary luncheon in Norfolk, Neb. (another metropolis) with my friend, Steve, and at the opening of their meeting the members recited what’s known as “The Four-Way Test” of Rotary International. If you’re not familiar with it – and if happen to be under 40, you probably aren’t – it goes like this:

-        Is it the truth?

-        Is it fair to all concerned?

-        Will it build good will and better friendship?

-        Will it be beneficial to all concerned?

Imagine if everyone, not just Rotarians, took these guidelines to heart in their interactions and communication with other people. How different might things be?

For starters, I think about 75 percent of everything elected officials and candidates for public office say would have to be eliminated – and they’d have a lot of apologizing to do. If they’re humble enough, they might even seek forgiveness. When facts are distorted and opponents misrepresented, all for the sake of gaining political advantage, they violate all four.

At least half of what we read on Facebook, Twitter and other social media couldn’t be posted, because in many cases words are used as weapons to wound, not as tools for building up.

So-called “fans” of college and pro football teams would have to keep silent, because their boorish behavior and hateful criticisms too commonly are untrue, unfair, not conducive for good will and friendship, and hardly beneficial for anyone. The same applies to many parents at youth sporting events who despite having little real understanding of the game, shout and carry on in very disruptive ways.

Commentators on cable news networks – Fox, CNN, MSNBC and others – would often have to practice the adage that “silence is golden.” Or else reassemble their facts in ways that aren’t stacked strategically to support their ideological biases and delude viewers and hearers.

Marriages could be transformed, as husbands and wives chose discretion and consideration rather than emotional impulse for guiding their conversations and shaping their relationships.

Many educators would have to totally rewrite their curricula, since their course content too often is engineered to influence inquiring student minds into believing their propagandist teachings and philosophies. Similarly, the entertainment media would have to drastically revise and reproduce agenda-driven movies, TV programming and videos, all disguised as means to “entertain.”

And leaders of various religions – including many in Christianity – would be forced to carefully re-examine their dogmatic and often judgmental pronouncements. They could feel compelled to answer the penetrating question asked by Pontius Pilate, “What is truth?” (John 18:38), rather than presuming they already know.

If we all embraced Rotary’s “Four-Way Test,” we might all be persuaded to apply the exhortation of Ephesians 4:29, which tells us, “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.”

Can you imagine?