Beloved in the Lord,
Grace, mercy, and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Today is Holy Saturday. Last Sunday we witnessed Christ enter Jerusalem on the back of donkey to the cheering crowd.
How quickly things changed. The betrayal, the abandonment, the perversions of justice. The crowds that once cried out “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” (Matt. 21:9) only a few days prior turned on our Savior. The cheers became screams, “Crucify Him, crucify Him!” (Lk. 23:21) The Triumphant Enry quickly turned to the brutality of Golgotha and the cross. And now, on Holy Saturday, He lies in that tomb of Joseph of Arimathea.
The quiet of Holy Saturday can feel heavy. The cross stands bare. The tomb is closed. The crowds have gone home. Heaven now seems silent. And in that stillness, we’re left with the weight of it all, our sin, our sorrow, our frailty, our failures, our need.
But even in the quiet of the moment we need to recognize something important: we cannot mistake this silence for defeat. We cannot confuse the stillness for absence.
Even now, God is powerfully at work. Just as a seed needs to rest in the earth before it springs forth in life (Jn. 12:24), so too does the body of our Lord lay in the tomb, not in failure, but in promise.
Today, tonight, the world holds its breath, not knowing what will happen next, but dawn is coming.
Tomorrow, though, the stone will be rolled away – not so Christ can get out, not so that He can escape the tomb, but so you can see in. And what you’ll see is not death’s victory, or the power of Satan triumphing. What you’ll see is the end. The end of the power of sin, death and the Devil. What you’ll see isn’t some lifeless body, but the empty place where your Savior once lay, all that’s left in that cold, dark place the linen He was once wrapped in.
Because He is risen, just as He said. (Matt. 28:6)
So if your heart is heavy tonight, if you’re still carrying guilt or grief or fear, if you’re still clinging to some past failure that seems like you can never escape, if hope feels like it’s buried too deep to ever rise again, then remember this: Easter isn’t for those who have it all together. It’s not for those who have all the answers, and who are capable of escaping their guilt and shame by their own power. No. It’s for the weary, the broken, the repentant. It’s for those who know they need mercy. And mercy has a name. His name is Jesus. He is our hope and He is our salvation.
When the women came to the tomb, they expected to find death. But instead, they found angels and a message: “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; He is risen!” (Lk. 24:5-6) That message still echoes for each and every one of us.
So prepare yourself. Prepare your hearts, not with fear or striving, but with confidence – with a full and deep and abiding confidence. Because Christ, that Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, that blameless Son of God who bore your iniquity and your sorrow, has conquered the grave. And in Him, you are forgiven. You are made new. You are never alone.
So let tomorrow come and let it find you at the tomb, but not to mourn.
Come to see what God has done.
Come to rejoice in what can never be undone.
Christ is risen. And because He lives, so shall you.
Now may the peace of the Lord that surpasses all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus even unto life everlasting.
In Him,
Pastor Wyatt
