Growing up in a Baptist church, my family observed Good Friday and Easter Sunday. I remember loving the Good Friday service especially…it was dark and somber. The shades in the sanctuary were drawn. The worship team wore all black. There was a black piece of crepe fabric draped across the Cross.
And every year, at the end of the service, we watched a video. I would leave the sanctuary in tears and covered in goosebumps, embodying Paul’s exhortation to “mourn as those who have hope.”
As an adult, I fell in love with Ash Wednesday for the same reasons I love Good Friday, and it made me wonder. Are there other parts of the Lent and Easter narrative that I am missing?
Insert Holy Week.
Every moment of Jesus’s life – recorded or not – was intentional. Everything He said and did had purpose and a meaning deeper than we can ever humanly comprehend. And the week leading up to His death – an event He knew was coming – is saturated with more significance than I have words to convey.
I can’t give you every intent contained in the last week of Jesus’s earthly life. But I can do this for you – I can give you this guide, and pray it helps you discover more in this week than you knew existed.
So grab your Bible and a notebook, or just set aside a minute or two of time to read the Scripture here – it’s all linked for you! Today is the final day of this series.
Blessings on this last day of Holy Week, dear one. It is meant for you.
It is Saturday. Jesus is dead.
Read: Exodus 34.21
This command was taken very seriously by the Jewish people and their religious leaders.
In their Law, there were 39 actions prohibited on the Sabbath, and each could be broken down into more. Among them was preparing a body for burial.
It’s also important to note that the days of the Jewish people were sun down- sun down. Their Sabbath day was Friday sun down to Saturday sun down.
Read: Luke 23.55-56
So immediately following the death of Jesus, His followers had just enough time to remove His body from the Cross, carry Him to a nearby tomb, and lay Him down before the sun set, Sabbath began, and they were required by law to do no work.
No one could care for the Body of Jesus until sun set on Saturday.
Imagine this.
One of your most beloved family members dies, and you have three or four hours to make the arrangements necessary to bury them. You are racing the sun because when the sun sets, if you make any arrangements for your loved ones, you could be put to death and would certainly be cast out by the rest of your family.
You do as much as you can in the four hours, and then brokenly begin observing Sabbath law. The very second it ends, you start working feverishly to complete tasks to go and care for the body and gravesite of your loved one!
Only to realize it is dark. And you are a woman.
A Jewish woman in a Roman man’s world.
It is not safe to go and care for the body of your most beloved family member.
Imagine sleeping fitfully or not sleeping at all, waiting to see the sky lighten in the Sunday morning sun. The women who have been gathering in your home over the night are all doing the same.
All you want is to rush to the tomb and care for your loved one.
And that really is all there is on Saturday!
An agonizing Sabbath.
Knowing you must observe it on pain of death. Feeling like you have abandoned the One who meant the most to you.
Saturday would have been torment.
For the women.
For the disciples who finally understand what “I must go away now” meant.
They had no choice but to sit in the pain. Sit in the suffering. Sit in their own decisions.
And they didn’t have hope.
They didn’t know what was going to happen.
Spoiler alert!
Read: Luke 24.1-3
We know what is going to happen!
We won’t be walking through the events of Easter Sunday at Knotty Living Blog this year. My hope is that your local body of Christ will finish this story with you in-person!
And though we’re ending with the beginning of the Resurrection story, I don’t want us to miss Saturday.
Hope is more powerful when you have experienced the despair. It means more when you have felt the sorrow. And the excitement of Sunday is more authentic when you know that only a day before, all was thought to be lost.
Lord Jesus,
Today You are dead. And You are alone. Separated from Your Father on purpose, abandoned by Your beloved disciples by Law, and fully experiencing what eternal torment is.
Thank You.
For willingly doing all that. For enduring the worst in my place. For choosing isolation, so that I might never have to feel it.
Thank You for Your life.
And thank You for a day where all hope seems lost.
I confess that I struggle to hope sometimes. I do feel like all is lost.
Forgive me.
I confess that I act like Your death is all there will ever be.
Forgive me.
I confess to skipping over the hard parts, the painful parts, the suffering in my story and in the stories of others, including Yours.
Forgive me.
And even as I pray this, Lord, I rejoice! For I pray as though Sunday has already come. I know how Your story ends!
Give me this praise every day of my life, Lord, for You have already written the end, and I can rejoice knowing You will be faithful to it.
Give me the courage to rejoice in the unknown future because I have belief in the known end.
Fill me with the sorrow that the first Holy Saturday contained, Lord, for I want to experience the joy of the first Resurrection Sunday with fresh eyes and a new Spirit.
Hosanna, Lord Jesus. save me!
We will be resting, observing the Sabbath and the Resurrection in the freedom the empty tomb has given tomorrow – may your Easter be joyful and restful and new! 🖤