The day between. Probably a day of grief for Jesus’ disciples. The events of the past 24 hours must have seemed like a whirlwind. From feasting together in the Upper Room to the hours of praying in the middle of the night to one of their own betraying their rabbi for the measly sum of 21 pieces of silver to the sham trial of the century to the labored trek up the mountain and then the crucifixion and death of the man who changed their lives with a word.
I’ve tried to think of a modern-day analogy to help put this in terms we might understand better – but there isn’t one. The whole thing is so absurd and would leave anyone (especially the disciples) with a ton of questions and no answers. What’s worse, the fear of similar treatment kept His closest friends and relatives from investigating.
So they sat.
Huddled together desperately trying to wrap their minds around what happened and what the future would (and should) look like. What a sad day Saturday must have been.
We don’t think much about the day between Good Friday and Easter – it doesn’t have a fancy name and there are no fancy events to attend. I just hangs out there on the way to Sunday.
I think it is a powerful day of reflection if you will let yourself be taken back and put in the disciples’ shoes for just a bit. The tendency is to look toward Sunday and the Resurrection and how all of the dots were about to be connected for these devout followers.
I’ve enjoyed resisting that tendency and staying in “Sad Saturday” all day – for some reason I’ve really wanted to make this Easter season more “real”. It’s been good.