Between the Cross and the empty tomb lies a silent Saturday, the "day with no name." |
Many of us are anticipating two central days on the Christian
calendar, Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Both represent pivotal events; in the
absence of either there would be no Christianity, and we’d not designate our
years according to B.C. (Before Christ) and A.D. (Anno Domini).
We know that the curiously named “Good Friday” marks the day of
Jesus’ crucifixion, “good” because His death served as the atoning sacrifice to
cover the sins of mankind. And Easter celebrates His resurrection, signifying
Christ’s triumph over death and the demonstration that He was who He claimed to
be – the Son of God – not just another dead prophet or religious leader.
But what about the day between Good Friday and Easter? It was
Saturday, a day virtually ignored by Christian tradition that author Philip
Yancey in his book, Grace Notes, calls “the day with no name.” For many of us, it’s merely a
business-as-usual day, useful for household chores, working in the yard, or
some form of recreation. Nothing more.
Typically we dismiss it from having any spiritual import. In
fact, S.M. Lockridge presented a classic sermon called, “It’s Friday…But Sunday’s
Comin'.” Author Tony Campolo drew from a similar message to write a
book by the same name. Lockridge eloquently described the devastation of Friday
and contrasted it with the delirious news of Sunday’s empty tomb and Christ’s
return from the dead. But there is no mention of Saturday.
Consider, however, what that silent Saturday must have been like
for Jesus’ followers. It would have been a day of despair, disillusionment and
confusion. The wondrous, inspirational, often mysterious leader they’d followed
for three years was dead, taking their hopes and aspirations with Him. How had
it come to this? What would they do now?
The Bible says little about the in-between day, but as Yancey
observes, much of human existence today is like that Saturday. “Human history
grinds on,” he writes, “between the time of promise and fulfillment. It’s
Saturday on planet Earth; will Sunday ever come?”
This questions nags at many of us. Even as we’re preparing to
pause for a marvelous day of rejoicing – “Christ is risen – He is risen indeed!”
– we find ourselves immersed in a world of pain and suffering. Disease,
poverty, violence, natural disasters, hatred and strife, everyday realities
that remain with us on Saturday, and the days after Easter.
Despite this, we can cope, because we have hope – earnest expectation,
confident assurance – that the often dismal present will one day be replaced by
a future that exceeds comprehension. As the apostle Paul wrote, “I consider that our present sufferings are
not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed to us…. For in this
hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what
he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it
patiently” (Romans 8:18-25).
So as we prepare to ponder the somber message of Good Friday, soon followed by the glorious report of Easter, let’s all take heart as we stumble through the challenges of Saturday, “the day with no name.” We do so while “looking for the blessed hope and the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Christ Jesus” (Titus 2:13).
So as we prepare to ponder the somber message of Good Friday, soon followed by the glorious report of Easter, let’s all take heart as we stumble through the challenges of Saturday, “the day with no name.” We do so while “looking for the blessed hope and the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Christ Jesus” (Titus 2:13).