Holy Saturday

Matthew 27:62-66; Psalm 30:5

And then it all went dark. Just when it seemed that nothing could get worse, new fears were realized and the weightiness of despair hung thick in the air. Light was eclipsed. 

Today, if you are feeling fear, the darkness of despair; if you are feeling hopeless or isolated; you are not alone, that is exactly how the disciples of Jesus felt. 

Just days earlier, Jesus had been given a king’s welcome. He spoke boldly exhorting repentance and offering a new kingdom. Jesus brought peace and purpose. But now the disciples, some in hiding, fearing for their lives, others in despair, were mourning the loss of Jesus.  

In Christian tradition, today (the Saturday of Holy Week) is called Black Saturday. Jesus was dead. No questions, heart pierced and buried. This is important. He wasn’t “mostly dead” (if you are a fan of The Princess Bride). He was dead. The weight of our sin hung on Him at the cross. Only in death could Jesus pay the price of all our sin. He could NOT be mostly dead or just a little dead to pay this price of our shame and guilt and outright rebellion. We should not skip over this point - it is theologically important. The price of our sin is death.  Jesus paid that price with His life.

But today is also known as Bright Saturday! Because while in despair over the cost of our sin, today we know that Sunday is coming! Yes, Jesus PAID the price of our sin AND he makes us clean, white as snow. Because of Jesus we are also called to be salt and light to the whole world!  Notice with me the juxtaposition: dark and bright, sin and forgiveness, death and new life. 

We are not called to despair in the reality of our circumstances. True, we may be apart from friends and family, restless at home, anxious about the future. But, in Jesus Christ we have hope - yes, for tomorrow and a post-COVID, non-social distanced life - but more importantly for NEW life in Jesus. One where the darkness of our current circumstances is eclipsed by His grace and freedom and an eternity with Him.  

So, today, do take time to grapple with the price of your sin.  But don’t bury yourself in it. If you are a follower of Jesus, who has committed your life to Him, then look to tomorrow and the hope that comes in the Resurrection! 

• Joanie Sickles

Good Friday - part II

At some point, all of us have suffered the misfortune of bearing the punishments for actions past taken. As young children the boundaries are pushed, we explore what is permissible under the discretion of our parents. As we age and mature, the figurative walls shift from trivial activities like stealing additional cookies and staying up past bedtime, to more consequential actions such as potentially abusing substances or rejecting established laws. In our self-assured condition, we assume that despite the statistical probabilities, we can take a bite of the forbidden fruit. When caught, I have found the dread of eventual punishment far more painful than whatever price I inevitably pay. But often in spite of the fear, the emotions are softened by the responsibility and pride of the receiver: I took this risk, I broke this law, and I pay the price. This is the order and justice, and whatever the consequence, it is borne on fairly on ourselves.

In direct contrast, many of us have also suffered the penalty of bearing the weight of another's actions. Parental figures, caring as they may be, sometimes resort to punishing a group to curtail the behavior of an individual. Peoples have been unfairly prosecuted by nations throughout history, with the justification being a few of their members wronging the society dwelt within. As a child, these moments were the most painful. Why was I subjected to the consequences inquired by someone else? This was not justice, but a concession made by humans with human weaknesses. It is one thing to cover for a mistake, but entirely another to sacrifice for selfish arrogance.

Perhaps the greatest of trials is willingly acting as a surrogate for the ungrateful and self-serving. Very few are presented with such an opportunity, and even fewer rise to the occasion. And yet it is viewed as the highest virtue, the ultimate act of altruism. And none serve as a better example than Christ.

All of us are human, sooner or later we make mistakes. As such, we often feel a sense of obligation to right those wrongs, and by sacrificing what we possess we can attempt to atone for those sins. None of us are truly perfect, without blemish or flaw. But as a God, and as a Son of Man, Jesus was both alike humanity and the scathing reflection of our glaring imperfections. He served those in need without reward, aided and encouraged the downtrodden and undesirable, and counseled and befriended the individuals rejected by society. None are more deserving of pure justice than He.

And yet it was the perfect Son of God that was required to satiate the burdens of our sins. If humanity was only judged by the rules of morality, our fate is determined. The rules dictated since the beginning of time make no exceptions, but the judge Himself cherished all of Creation to the extent beyond comprehension that only His offspring was beset for slaughter. Such is the compassion and fortitude of the Lord our God.

In His greatest act, our Savior embraced everything vile and feared that we may ever experience: pain, separation, loneliness, fear. The price paid for the folly of our arrogance, and unfairly applied on One undeserving of even the smallest inconvenience. But more than washing the ledger pure, Christ’ sacrifice on this Good Friday ought to serve as the most inspiring example to those aware. When life deals an undeserved blow, reject the temptation to perpetuate that pain. We can never even approach the purity of Christ, nor does He demand that of us. We make mistakes, and sometimes we lash out whenever our sense of order is upset. But as one person, a human of flaws and pain and suffering, I can keep trying to be the bearer of sin for those who cannot. I hope and pray you have the strength, love and capacity to bear the light of our Father, even in the face of the despair.

• Eli Aguilera