The Silence In-Between

We have a tendency to want to jump straight from Good Friday to Resurrection Sunday.

We don't know what to do with Saturday.

We don't like Saturday.

Saturday is a day of silence. Of misunderstanding. Of confusion. Of doubt.

Even Scripture doesn't tell us anything about Saturday. Good Friday ends with Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus placing Jesus' body in a tomb (John 19:38-42). And then moves right into the account of the women coming to the tomb on Sunday and finding it empty (John 20:1-18).

Friday's despair becomes Sunday's celebration.

But, what about Saturday?

The silence doesn't mean that God wasn't still working out His plan that day. But, for Jesus' followers, the day wouldn't have been easy. Nothing was going the way they thought it should.

Confusion. Pain. Despair. Grief.

The companions of the day for many.

It's uncomfortable to sit in Saturday. So, we try to rush past it. Get through it as quickly as possible.

Bu, even though Scripture doesn't tell us explicitly of the actions of Jesus' followers on that day, we still know they walked through it. 

Saturday was the Sabbath. A day of rest. A day where they could do nothing but sit and wait and question what had happened. They had to wait until Sunday before they could do anything again.

Truthfully, Saturday is a place we often live in our everyday lives. We walk through times of pain and confusion. We have seasons when God seems silent and we wonder if He's paying attention to what's happening in our lives.

In John 20, we say what could maybe be a glimpse of what Jesus' followers did with their Saturday. Verse 19 says, "On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together . . ." 

The disciples were used to being together, eating together, doing life together. They continued to be together. They shared their experience. Instead of being alone in their confusion, pain, and grief, they were together.

So, what do we do with Saturday?

How do we handle the pain and confusion of the silence that seems to fall?

We hold to the truth that God is still working, even though we can't see it. And we hold to each other. We don't attempt tp get through it alone.

Dear Grandma

 As I walk through a year of firsts without my Grandma around, there are times and things that I reflect on. Tonight as I sit I'm reflecting on Easter and memories around it. Choosing to remember the good.

This post is the form of a letter to my Grandma.

Dear Grandma,

Today was Easter Sunday. I thought of you a lot today. The first Easter Sunday without you . . . except it had already been a few years since you were able to be at church or our family gathering. Not just because of COVID, the last few years, but even before that. Son, in some ways it was the first resurrection Sunday without you, and in other ways it wasn't. But, no matter what, I thought of you a lot today.

As we sang songs pointing to the resurrection and about eternity with Jesus, I pictured you today. Standing in Jesus' presence today. No more body or mind failing you. In the presence of your Savior forevermore. I could almost hear your voice singing praises to God, as I know you always loved to do here. 

In the midst of all the things we do on holidays, you always made sure we were reminded of the real reason why we gathered to celebrate. You always made sure we didn't forget. You pointed us to Jesus. On Easter Sunday, you pointed us to the empty tomb and our risen Savior.

As my Mom & I made the potatoes and got the ham ready, my mind was filled with memories of you in your kitchen. Always busy getting something ready, making sure nothing was missed for dinner. Even in your busy-ness of making sure it was all ready on time, you welcomed us grandkids into your kitchen to help. As we got older, I'm sure we actually helped, but sometimes I wonder if in those early years, we made more work for you by helping. Yet, you didn't turn us away when we wanted to help - you found something we could do.

As we sat at the table to eat together, I missed the large family gatherings at your house. This one was smaller . . . just 7 of us this day. It's been that way for a while. You were unable to come already by the time the thing happened that shrunk our family gatherings so much. I know that family was so important to you. As much as having us all in your house all day wore you out, I also remember the smile on your face when we all squeezed together to fit around the table. 

(And I remember how anyone in your reach had to watch their plate carefully. You never knew when you would decide someone hadn't eaten enough and would add more food to their plate when they weren't looking.)

Even, as I served my food today. I dutifully took at least one scoop of everything on the table. The "no thank you" helping (you always had to take one scoop of every dish on the table, no matter what, even if you didn't like it or didn't think you would) that was the rule at your house while I was growing up, still directs me when I'm serving food. I wasn't a fan of that rule as a kid, but it has served me well as an adult.

As we put the paska (Mennonite Easter bread), on the table after dinner, I noticed that no one had gotten the sprinkles out yet. I had to go and find them before we could eat it. I remembered how you always made sure there was an abundance of them on the paska before you served it. I never understood why, and I really still don't, but paska was always served with icing and sprinkles (yes, on bread . . . a sweet bread, but bread). And I will always eat it that way.

Today, I missed you. I missed your smile, your laugh, your hugs. I missed hearing you sing with joy as you celebrated our risen Savior. 

But, I know you were celebrating in a way I can only imagine right now. A way you weren't able to for so many years at the end. And that brings me joy in the midst of tears because you're not here with us anymore.

Love you always, 

Tamara

When You Realize You've Almost Missed It

We're halfway through Holy Week.

I was reminded of that on a video chat this morning. Even though I knew it and the dates marked on my calendar told me that is was Holy Week, something hadn't really connected about it for me this time.

Usually this is a week where I take time to intentionally reflect on all the happened in this week. To try to enter in to what Scripture says about this week. To thank Jesus for He did on my behalf.

And, yet, I realized today I hadn't even really considered it at all so far. Palm Sunday had come and gone, and Good Friday was approaching, and then Resurrection Sunday. Such important days on the Christian calendar to remember and celebrate.

But, this year doesn't feel much like other years. There's no plans for big crowds to gather on Sunday to celebrate. Big family gatherings aren't happening. Even the events our larger society associates with Easter, like community Easter egg hunts, have been cancelled.

As I drove home from work today (yes, I work for an organization that cannot just close, even at a time like this), a song came on my music player that I hadn't heard for a long time. As I listened to and then put on repeat and began to sing the song, I realized that even though Holy Week and Easter look so much different that the traditions I've become used to at this time of year, it doesn't change the significance of what we remember and celebrate.

That song and those minutes in my car became a worship time . . . and a reset for me. No matter what the circumstances are right now, this is when we intentionally remember and celebrate what our Savoir has done for us.

For me, Holy Week feels a bit short this year now. But, I'm still going to be intentional about the days left. No beating myself up for what I feel like I missed. Just taking the time I have left in this week to remember the sacrifice of my Savior and His victory over the grave.

As I close, I want to leave you with the song that spoke to me today. Blessed Redeemer by Casting Crowns. I love the chorus of this song:
Blessed Redeemer, precious Redeemer
Seems now I see Him on Calvary's tree
Wounded and bleeding, for sinners pleading
Blind and unheeding, dying for me

Meeting Jesus in the Middle of Your Circumstances

There's something about John's account of the resurrection of Jesus that really draws my attention. John 20:11-18 records a conversation between Mary Magdalene and Jesus that had made me think.

Mary Magdalene went to the tomb early in the morning and discovered Jesus was no longer there. She goes back to tell the disciples. Peter and John run to the tomb to investigate for themselves.

Then we pick up the conversation Mary had with Jesus in John 20:11-18.

As I read the conversation, I'm struck by the relationship I see between Jesus and Mary. Mary wasn't just a part of the crowd that wanted to see what Jesus would do next. She followed Him because she believed in Him. One where all it took was for Jesus to say her name to recognize Him.

She was "outside the tomb crying," (John 20:11) when Jesus came to her. She didn't recognize Jesus at first. But, the moment she heard Him speak her name it all became clear. She knew exactly who she was talking to.

I think this is often our story. Something has happened that has caused us grief, pain, sorrow. We're "outside the tomb crying." We're focused on what we've lost, or think we've lost. When Jesus makes Himself known in our situation, we don't recognize Him in it. W don't realize He's right there waiting to comfort and strengthen us.

When we finally list our eyes, we hear Jesus say our name and that's when everything changes. The circumstances we're in may not change, but when we realize we're not facing them alone, that does change things. When we realize Jesus is walking every step with us that changes everything.

What circumstances are you in that seem overwhelming?
Are you focused on them? Or are you seeing and hearing Jesus there with you?

Receiving from God in Honest Prayer

The week leading up to Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday always brings me back to familiar passages of Scripture. Even in their familiarity there often seems to be something that I notice again - that challenges me.

I was reading in Luke 22:39-46, where Jesus is praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. He was in anguish. Jesus' prayer in this passage was honest. He didn't shy away from expressing what He was really feeling.

I was struck by verse 43 as I read. It says:

"An angel from heaven appeared to Him and strengthened Him."

I don't know if I've really paid attention to this verse before.

In the middle of His honest prayer, as Jesus was pouring out how He really felt to the Father, God sent an angel to comfort and strengthen Jesus. We can't know of that would have happened regardless. But, I think it's significant that it happened in the midst of His prayer.

It is when we cry out to God in our struggles that He meets us in that. And we experience His comfort and strengthening. When we admit our need, we're in a place of being open to that.

When we're busy acting like we have it all together, even if we don't, we're not in a position to receive anything from God. We likely don't even see the offer of it, because we're so busy maintaining our facade. But, if we're willing to admit and express our need to God, we get the privilege of experiencing His comfort and strengthening for what we're going through.

Are you honest with God in your prayers? 

Are you open to receiving comfort and strengthening from God for whatever you're facing?

In the In-Between

The Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday . . . it seems to be a time that gets little reference. Sometimes I wonder why we treat it as so insignificant.

It certainly wasn't insignificant for Jesus' disciple. Everything they had known for the last three years was thrown into confusion.

They were in between and left with what seemed like no hope. They didn't know what was coming. That Saturday, all they knew was that Jesus had been crucified and was dead.

And along with that went their dreams, their plans, their hope.

It's not a place we like to sit, because it's unpleasant. It's hard. It's dark. It's scary. We don't like to dwell on those things unless we know something good is coming.

So, we quickly jump to the resurrection. We want to jump right to the good - jump over the bad.

But in doing so, I think we miss some lessons that can only be learned in those in-between times.

If we're really honest, we can probably all share our own stories of living in the in-between. Of living in-between the death of something good and the start of something new.

We can identify more with the disciples on Saturday than we care to. We know what it's like to lose hope. To walk the hard, dark road.

That road may look different for each of us based on our own life experiences, but we've walked the road ourselves.

And looking back, we see all that we learned in those times. We see the lessons learned in the in-between. We see how we have become who we are from those times in our lives.

I would guess that each of the disciples was shaped by that time in between - when they learned the full truth of who Jesus was and what He had come to do.

We are profoundly shaped by what we learn in the in-between.

Maybe we need to become better at learning to pause in those times. And maybe we can learn to do that better by pausing on the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday and remembering what it must have been like for Jesus' disciples and friends on that day.

If we take the time to do that, it makes Easter Sunday an even greater reason to celebrate. We've felt the loss of hope and now we can celebrate the fullness of greater hope than we could ever have comprehended without the time in-between.

How do you do at living life in the in-between?

Have you learned lessons that have shaped who you are today in the in-between?

A Life Changing Event

Tomorrow is Good Friday. One of the most important days of the year for Christians. You could day that Resurrection Sunday is the most important day and I don't think I would argue with you. But, that Sunday isn't important without Good Friday.

The cross is where Jesus paid the price for our sins. The day when the penalty for everything wrong we have ever done and ever will do was paid for. By the only person who had ever lived a life that "qualified" Him to pay that price.

It seems like every year when this holiday comes around I find myself reflecting on the significance of it all. This was a world-changing event.

An event that can change our lives if we choose to accept what is offered to us.

It causes me to pause and wonder . . .

Have I allowed what God did on that day to change my life?

Have I allowed it to change me on an ongoing basis? Or have I stopped allowing it to change me - to make me more like Jesus?

What about you? Have you allowed God to change your life because of this day? Are you doing so on a daily basis? Or was it a one time thing?

Lent and Other Christian Traditions

In the last few years, I've heard a lot about Lent. I don't remember hearing much about it growing up. I knew it was a period of time before Easter and that people often fasted during it. But I knew little else about it. Beginning to hear about it more increased my curiosity to learn more about it.

My crash course in Lent taught me the following:

• Lent is the 40 days leading up to Easter and excludes Sundays.
• Lent begins on Ash Wednesday and ends on the Thursday before Good Friday.
• Lent is a time of preparation leading to Easter, commonly observed by fasting.
• Ultimately, Lent is a time of preparation leading up to the events of Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

Learning about Lent also explained to me why I had never heard much about it before. It's not something all Christian churches observe, mine being one that traditionally does not.

I've also come to realize that learning from traditions in other Christian churches can help us to grow in our understanding of following Christ. I think this is one of those times.

Even if we choose not observe lent ourselves, there is value in realizing the importance of making time in our lives for fasting and repentance. And for taking time to reflect on the events we remember each year at Easter.

Lent isn't mentioned in Scripture, so we can never make it something required for all Christians. But, if something has survived as many years of church tradition, it may be something worth looking at. Not because we necessarily need to follow the tradition, but because we need to understand why so many who have gone before us have seen the value in something.

And so I'm left to reflect on what, if any, place the observance of Lent should have in my life. I see value in it and yet, I find myself cautious of getting caught up in legalism over it.

I guess ultimately this is something to talk to God about. If it's being done for the right reasons, then it can be a good thing in our relationship with God. If it's being done for the wrong reasons, then it can have the opposite effect to what we want it to.

I guess the thing I want to leave you with in this post is a challenge to think about your own life and about the things you do in certain seasons to grow deeper in your walk with God. You might have things you do at certain times without realizing you do. We have them because they help us.

But, they might not work the same way for someone else. They may have different things they do in those seasons. And maybe if we take the time to hear from others and learn what works for them, we'll grow more in our own walk with God.