The next day.....the Pharisees went to Pilate. "Sir," they said, "we remember that while he was still alive that deceiver said, 'After three days I will rise again.' So give the order for the tomb to be made secure until the third day. Otherwise, his disciples may come and steal the body and tell the people that he has been raised from the dead. This last deception will be worse than the first."
Saturday, the day of wondering and disillusionment. The disciples woke up in the middle of broken hopes and dreams. What they had given their lives to was no more. The faith they had based their lives on and the man they had given their lives to was now violently dead. Feelings of hopelessness and grief enveloped them like the darkness that had fallen on the land the day before. Now, they were the object of scorn among the people and their lives were in danger. Was it worth it? They didn't know. Peter's sense of confusion was betrayed in his betrayal. He could not stand for something he was unsure of. What they thought they had understood so well had disintegrated before their very eyes and disappeared like a vapor. Could they still trust in the middle of disillusionment and pain? What they thought they understood proved to be wrong, but the Truth was far better. On this painful Saturday they didn't know it. They could only see their broken dreams and disillusioning faith. Could they still believe the God who always knows what He is doing even when they didn't understand?
Can we? When our faith does not look like what we had hoped can we keep believing? When we have shattered hopes and broken dreams, but have yet to see resurrection, can we hold on to what He said? Can we deconstruct a misguided faith while holding onto the one on Whom we build our faith? Deconstructing faith in the wrong thing is good and we need our Saturdays so resurrection can come. Saturdays disorient us so that we can be reoriented. Saturdays are the wrestling space. The place where we set our minds. Can we walk alongside those who are in a disillusioning Saturday, holding their pain while helping them look towards Sunday? Can we be brave enough to live in a Saturday for a time?
Faith is built in the Saturdays. The days between a shattered hope and the God who comes. Sometimes our cries to the God who promises to always hears seem to be unheard. The God who claims to never disappoint seems to be disappointing sometimes. Disappointment and disillusionment happen and when they do, can we hang onto the truth of what was promised? Can we believe in the God who loves us and promised to never leave? When our experience doesn't match who He says He is, can we assume He is doing something we don't understand instead of concluding He is not good? Can we rest our hope on His goodness and His undying love towards us? Can we look towards the promised Sunday when we are stuck in the despair of Saturday? Saturdays are the days of the in-between; the place between the shattering and the resurrection. Saturday is not the end of the story but the place where in the dark, we cling to Who we have seen in the light. Sunday is coming.