Saturday was silent. The One who promised them life was dead. The One who spoke of saving others could not even save himself. How would he prepare those promised heavenly mansions when his body lay in a cold, dark tomb? Was this burial place the destination he meant when he said, “… where I am you may be also”? The grave was one location they would not need his help to find.

Matthew 27:59-61
And Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen shroud and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had cut in the rock. And he rolled a great stone to the entrance of the tomb and went away. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb.

Saturday was silent.

The early days with Jesus seemed full of promise. “Follow me” was enough for them to drop their nets, shut down their shops, and traverse the countryside with a man they hardly knew. His call was gripping. Watching him at work filled their hearts with a sense of awe and wonder. If there had ever been any question, every day brought more proof that he was for real…until now.

Saturday was silent.

Why would a man who claimed to be the Son of God remain silent before human authorities? How could one who resisted the temptations of Satan submit to the torment of soldiers? How could a man speak with such power and now refuse to defend himself? Why would a leader who walked on water march to his death without a fight? How could the person who raised the dead…die? Confusion and doubt filled their hearts.

Saturday was silent.

Lord Jesus,
We all have silent times. Times of questioning and doubts. Times when you don’t feel near. Times when the distance dulls our experience. Times when the silence is deafening. In those times, we turn to you. We know in our silent Saturdays that Sunday is coming. We pray in your name. Amen.