Passion Week: Holy Saturday
Walking with Jesus through Passion Week
March 30, 2024 — Jonathan Hood
As a teenager, I had many foes: childhood rivals, puberty, pesky homework assignments, and resisting urges to indulge in a culinary delicacy — the late-night bowl of cereal. Each of these things preoccupied my mind as I grew into an adult. However, there was one thing that impacted my upbringing more than most: darkness. I had a debilitating fear of the dark, and the silence associated with that darkness only made the fear more crippling. The fear was so intense that on many nights I would sing myself to sleep. The lyrics and melodies of popular Christian worship songs would bring long enough of a reprieve that I would eventually fall asleep.
If I close my eyes, I can still picture the moments of trembling as the door to my room would close, the light from the hallway and the noise from other family members slowly fading away. Turning off the lights in the basement of my Midwestern home was also not a task for the faint of heart. As the lights turned off, there was this eerie feeling I was not alone and thus began the sprint up the stairs.
These antidotes represent a few of the moments where real intimidation and panic were my experience with the dark. But if I am honest, I still grapple with the fear of the dark, and I am presently aware of the scar tissue left behind from the deep pain and suffering experienced from battling with this foe over the years. This is why I am writing on Holy Saturday — the day when the Disciples experienced deep pain and anguish, as their Lord and friend lay in the grave and darkness and silence surrounded them.
When we approach the Passion Week narrative, it is easy to move quickly from the Crucifixion to the Resurrection, bypassing the confusion and ambiguity of the day Jesus’ body lay still and silent in the grave. Good Friday leaves us wounded, and Easter brings relief from that pain, and Scripture hinges upon these two glorious days. The Christian community houses within it an abundance of art, books, movies, and music all depicting the death and resurrection of Christ. Yearly, we honor these days with both the dirge and the flute, and rightly so. Even many who do not actively follow Christ often find themselves in the church pews on Easter Sunday. The images and stories of death and resurrection are burned in our minds, so much so that we probably take them for granted.
However, there is very little written about Holy Saturday. Death is the future reality that hangs over the head of every human who has lived, and resurrection is the hope that allows for joy to exist while suffering abounds. Yet, darkness, silence, fear, anxiety, and disillusionment are the enemies the human mind and heart must battle every day. These are the emotions that present themselves as Christ’s body lay in the grave.
The Disciples are no different than me. Though I am separated by two millennia and vast cultural differences, my humanity unites my experience with theirs. The emotions that infiltrated their lives are the same ones that infiltrate my life every day: anxiety, depression, disillusionment, and fear. The darkness that surrounded them, as they walked away stunned when their friend was crucified, is the same darkness that followed me up the stairs years ago. It is the darkness that causes me to ask the tough questions — Am I all alone? Was it all for naught? Will deliverance ever come? Will I always experience this self-doubt and anxiety? Have I put my trust in someone not worth following? Fortunately, while Jesus’ body lay quietly in the grave and the Disciple's emotions swayed from dizziness, Jesus was not still; He was working.
The exact details of what happened those few hours Christ’s body was in the tomb is something I will inquire from the Lord when I see him face-to-face one day. What I do know is that for centuries, Christians have believed Jesus was not just resting in the grave. The Apostles Creed declares that Christ “descended into hell” after His death and burial. In the New Testament, we are made aware of some activity on Holy Saturday (Eph. 4:8-10; Rom. 10:7; 1 Pet. 3:18-20; 4:4-6; Rev. 1:18).[1] As the author of 1st Peter says, “…having been put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit; in which He also went and made proclamation to the spirits in prison…” (1 Pet. 3:18-19). The theological implications of 1stPeter are complicated and debated. However, Athanasius, in his famous work On the Incarnation, said something truly profound: “The Lord has touched all parts of the creation . . . so that each might find the Logos everywhere.”[2]
Christ traveled to the lowest place (the depths of hell) and still had power there.[3] Christ experienced the most intense darkness, and it did not overcome Him. Even when God is dead, He is working on behalf of redemption, and if Christ had power over the realm of the dead, then He most certainly has power over the darkness that cripples me.
Even when I do not see it, He is working to deliver me from the darkness that entangles me. When I am surrounded by the silence, the depression, the fear, the disillusionment, the despair, and the darkness, God is there, and He has descended to even lower places. Thus, I know, that regardless of the depth of emotion and struggle I face, it is not darker than the darkness Christ has descended into. Now, as I look back at the moments of fear and trembling, I see Christ there for His presence fills all things (Eph. 4:9-10). He was in my room when the door closed and the light vanquished, and He was with me in the dark basement as I ran up the stairs. I cannot flee from Him. (Psalm 139:8-9). This truth allows me to continue breathing and walking forward because I know I am not alone; Christ is in the darkness with me, and Resurrection is on the horizon.
Endnotes:
[1]Thomas Oden, Classic Christianity, 450.
[2]Athanasius, On the Incarnation. 45 (PG 25, 177); Hans Urs von Balthasar, Mysterium Paschale: The Mystery of Easter, trans. Aidan Nichols (San Francisco, California: Ignatius Press, 2000), 126.
[3]Balthasar, Mysterium Paschale: The Mystery of Easter, 116.
