37 With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last. 38 The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. 39 And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, heard his cry and saw how he died, he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”
Silent Saturday—what was the moment like in the community of the Trinity when Jesus breathed his last? Was there a holy hush declared in the heavens? Did the angelic choir fast from their celestial praise? The moaning, writhing, gasping finally buckled at the silence of death—the torture and torment ceased.
Some stood still with a cold, blank stare; some began scrubbing their blood-stained armor and calloused hands; some wept bitterly; some walked away; some cried, “Surely this man was the Son of God!” On this day, it wasn’t clear if this were the end of a chapter or the end of the story – one brought hope, the other despair. On this day, injustice seems to have gotten the last word. On this day, evil appears to have overcome. On this day, there’s sighing and wondering.
“But I cry also in gratitude that you will be at my death. O my Savior—and that, though I can only cry for yours, you rescue me from mine.” – Walter Wangerin, Jr.
Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we kneel in silence before you as an act of worship – remembering your suffering, magnifying your sacrifice. We’re overwhelmed at your obedience. Help us take up our cross in a manner worthy of yours. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
(sit/kneel for a few minutes in silence, reflecting on the sealed tomb)