Sitting with Holy Saturday

I’m heading to Indiana today to attend a friend’s funeral. That it is today, on Holy Saturday, has not been lost on me. In fact, the more I think about it, the more it simply makes sense. We will be gathering to remember and grieve, just like a group of friends did two thousand years ago.

Holy Saturday has become just as meaningful to me as Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. Most of my life I skipped over it, not really sure what to think about on this day. The Gospel accounts are silent, and timeline-wise, we’re not ready to move on to Sunday morning. In the past, my Saturdays have usually been spent coloring eggs, decorating sugar cookies, and making sure all is ready for Easter morning.

But then, a few years ago, I started intentionally studying grief in scripture, and I realized I’ve been viewing Saturday through the wrong lens.

For three years, the 12 disciples and a number of women had given up everything to follow Jesus. They had set aside their jobs and left behind their families. They had risked their standing in their faith community. Jesus had made it clear to them that following him was dangerous. But they chose to go all in believing Jesus was the Savior of Israel.

Then one night, Jesus was arrested. His disciples watched as Jesus didn’t even fight back or defend himself. They watched him walk to Golgatha and get nailed to a cross. They helplessly stood by as Jesus stayed up on the cross. And at the end of the day, they watched Jesus’ body get laid in a tomb.

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I said Steve is a friend, but he was more than that. When I was in college, I agreed to be a counselor at a camp where I didn’t know anyone. From the moment Steve and Tom, the two directors of the camp, began speaking I knew the week was going to be unlike anything I had ever been a part of. It was obvious that prayer was much a part of them as breathing. They truly made you feel like you belonged, are deeply loved, and are an important member of God’s family.

When I look back at how I got to where I am today, there is no way I would be who I am without the mentoring and love of Steve, Tom, and the counselors who I worked alongside every year. Every summer I was being transformed right alongside the campers.

In 1995, I accepted an invitation from Steve and Tom to join a team they were leading to Kerala, India. My role was to lead Bible lessons for the children who came with their parents to our medical clinics. I still remember how to sing Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes in Tamil. And I was humbled by the trust Steve and Tom put in me when they gave me the privilege of speaking at an evening service.

After returning from India, life moved on, and it was years before I saw Steve again. It probably shouldn’t have been surprising that the next time we were together was back at camp. My children were signed up for the same camp I had attended years before. As we walked up the driveway, there stood Steve ready to welcome them. Just as he had been there for me, he was there to help my children grow in their faith. I was so grateful for God’s goodness.

I tell all of this because my children and I are just three of the multitudes Steve mentored, taught, and made to feel loved and an important part of God’s family. Those of us who will gather in the church today are just a small fraction of those around the world who have been impacted by his life and ministry.

In the church where Steve preached countless sermons about God’s goodness and love, we will hear those scripture and sing the songs. We will celebrate a good and faithful servant who did much with what he was given, and who has been welcomed into the arms of Jesus.

I’ll also be thinking about Jesus’ friends and family.

Following Jewish burial customs, they took Jesus’ body and wrapped it, with the spices, in linen cloths. There was a garden in the place where Jesus was crucified, and in the garden was a new tomb in which no one had ever been laid. Because it was the Jewish Preparation Day and the tomb was nearby, they laid Jesus in it.
John 19: 40-42

As my husband and I make the drive this morning, I’m going to be intentional about turning my thoughts toward those early disciples. I will wonder how they might have comforted each other. I’ll pray Psalm 23 and wonder if they drew strength from it too.

The Resurrection is Good News to all who would hear it. But it can be hard to receive when your heart is broken by a loss or the death of someone you love. On this Holy Saturday, if you are grieving, please know that the disciples have been where you are. They knew what it’s like trying to make it through the next days.

May you know the presence of Christ with you, comforting and hold you close in this holy days.

The Lord is my shepherd.
    I lack nothing.
He lets me rest in grassy meadows;
    he leads me to restful waters; he keeps me alive.
He guides me in proper paths for the sake of his good name.

Even when I walk through the darkest valley,
    I fear no danger because you are with me.
Your rod and your staff— they protect me.

You set a table for me right in front of my enemies.
You bathe my head in oil; my cup is so full it spills over!
Yes, goodness and faithful love will pursue me all the days of my life,
    and I will live in the Lord’s house as long as I live.