WAITING in the SILENCE

 April 4, 2026

Matthew 27:62-66

62 The next day, the one after Preparation Day, the chief priests and the Pharisees went to Pilate. 63 "Sir," they said, "we remember that while he was still alive that deceiver said, 'After three days I will rise again.' 64 So give the order for the tomb to be made secure until the third day. Otherwise, his disciples may come and steal the body and tell the people that he has been raised from the dead. This last deception will be worse than the first." 65 "Take a guard," Pilate answered. "Go, make the tomb as secure as you know how." 66 So they went and made the tomb secure by putting a seal on the stone and posting the guard.

This passage is the only text that speaks of the Saturday between Crucifixion (Good Friday) and Jesus' Resurrection (Easter Sunday).

Today is often called Holy Saturday—but honestly, I think of it as the “in-between day.”

Yesterday was Good Friday. Maybe you were in a service, read something meaningful, or just paused to remember what Jesus went through. And naturally, our minds tend to jump ahead to Easter—the celebration, the hope, the joy.

But in the days of Holy Week, I find that it’s Saturday that feels real. 

It’s the quiet day. The numb day. The day where nothing seems to be happening and no one knows what comes next. I imagine the disciples sitting in that space, confused, afraid, maybe not even sure how to comfort each other. Everything they thought was certain had just fallen apart.

And honestly… that feels familiar.

We all know “in-between” days like that. After loss. After disappointment. After life doesn’t go the way we hoped. The days after the funeral. The weeks after everything changes. The waiting between diagnosis, treatment, and answers. Those are often the hardest moments—when nothing is fixed yet, and hope feels far away.

That’s where Holy Saturday meets us.

It reminds us that even when it feels like nothing is happening, God is still at work. On that first Holy Saturday, no one could see it, but God was already preparing resurrection. Already writing a new future.

And maybe that’s the quiet promise for us too:

Even in the waiting…
Even in the grief…
Even in the unknown…

God isn’t done yet.

LET'S PRAY

God,

In these in-between moments—when we feel the weight of waiting, the ache of loss, and the uncertainty of what comes next—help us to trust that You are still at work.

When hope feels distant, remind us that You are near.
When we cannot see the way forward, remind us that You are already there.
When our hearts are heavy, hold us in Your peace.

Teach us to rest in You, even in the silence, believing that You are not finished yet.

Amen.