The Day Inbetween

It’s Saturday, the day after Good Friday.  Jesus is in the tomb. The women can’t do anything because it is the Sabbath. They are bound by their religious beliefs to keep God’s Law. The disciples are bound by fear, they are terrified and in hiding. They are carrying a weight of shame and guilt.

The chief priests meanwhile have no qualms. Evil-doers rarely do. They are continuing to plot. Now they meet to discuss how to finish off the Galilean Messiah’s followers for ever (Matthew 27:62-66).

It’s a day of waiting. A day of helplessness.  I find that poignant because I live with a community that finds itself so often in that position.

We have people who are waiting for their benefits assessments

We have people who are waiting to go to court about their asylum case.

As they wait, they face uncertainty. They re-live the nightmare of past events in their minds. They carry hurt. Sometimes they are weighed down with a sense of shame.  They often live with ongoing oppression, racial abuse, ongoing health problems resulting from past torture, a bureaucratic system that delays and questions, lawyers that take money they don’t have.

But Sunday is coming. For the women and disciples, there was a day ahead. Jesus would be raised from the dead. They would discover that life, hope, forgiveness was available to them.

For those who continued to plot and conspire, Sunday was a foretaste. The King was victorious. Sunday was a warning that judgement is coming for those who do not repent.

For us, the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is a reminder that we live in the now and the not yet. Sunday is coming. It’s not just Easter Sunday but the day we look forward to. A day is coming when our risen Lord will return, when he will destroy evil for ever, wipe away every tear, give us new resurrection bodies and bring us into a safe and secure, eternal home.

 

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