12 minute read
LIVING IN THE IN BETWEEN
Living in the IN–BETWEE
Living in the –BETWEEN
Jesus died on Easter Friday, He rose on Easter Sunday. But have you ever wondered what happened on Saturday?
Easter is a significant time in the modern calendar. A long weekend, Easter eggs, hot cross buns—what’s not to love? But for Christians the world over, Easter is much more than chocolate bunnies and egg hunts. More people attend church at Easter than any other time of the year—for good reason. It’s a time of remembrance and reflection, a time of recalibration and renewal as we remember Jesus’ death and resurrection. Church events are anchored around Good Friday and Easter Sunday, two very important days in the crucifixion-turned-resurrection narrative. But why exactly are these days so important? And what happened on Easter Saturday in between these two days?
the biblical account
The sequence of events we now refer to as Easter is found in all four of the Gospels in the New Testament—Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Each writer has their own unique spin on exactly what happened, however they all agree with the key events: Jesus was crucified on a Roman cross on Friday morning, He was buried in a borrowed tomb on Friday evening, He lay dead in the tomb on Saturday—and just like was prophesied centuries before—He miraculously rose again on Sunday morning. Each writer clearly outlines the sacrificial death of Jesus; and in an understated, stick-to-the-facts way, capture the outpouring of grief and shock from those who loved Him. good friday
Good Friday? It’s a funny name, really. The day we remember the violent death of Jesus—an innocent man who was tortured and killed by the Romans after He was rejected by His own community—should be called anything but good. It was a day of tears and suffering, of torture and loss. What’s so good about that? Well, Good Friday is indeed good, but only if we remember what happened on Easter Sunday.
easter sunday
Very early on Sunday morning while it was still dark, some of the women who were Jesus’ friends, including Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of Jesus, Joanna and
Salome went to His tomb (Mark 16:1; Luke 24:10). It must have seemed like a bad dream to them. The Friend who they loved, the Man they had followed and believed in for three years as He travelled the countryside teaching, preaching and healing was dead. It had all happened so suddenly they didn’t even have the chance to anoint His body with spices, as was their custom. The sorrow must have been unbearable as they walked in darkness to the tomb.
But when they arrived, the stone blocking the entrance to the tomb had moved and Jesus’ body was gone! There was initial confusion, but soon after they encountered a living, breathing Jesus and exclaimed with great joy, “He is Risen!” It’s the same cry that echoes in our ears each Easter some 2000 years later.
Good Friday brought sadness and loss.
Easter Sunday brought joy and celebration.
But what about Saturday? What happened during the in-between?
easter saturday
The Bible accounts are strangely silent about what happened to Jesus’ followers that Saturday. The seventh day was the Jewish Sabbath, a day of rest that was observed each week and is still observed by Jews and some Christian denominations around the world today. Matthew and Mark skip over this day completely with just a casual mention of Sabbath (Matthew 28:1; Mark 16:1). John doesn’t mention Saturday at all. Only Luke
gives any indication of what happened during the in-between: “On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment” (Luke 23:56).
We don’t know a lot about what happened that day, but what we do know is that on Sunday morning after the women encountered the risen Jesus, they hurried back to where the other disciples were gathered and told them what had happened (Luke 24:9–12). Since it was very early in the morning, we can assume that this little band of believers, broken and bruised, had spent Saturday, their day of rest, together.
Together in their grief.
Together in their loss.
Together in their confusion.
Maybe you know what that kind of grief is like. The pain that ambushes you, steals your breath and just doesn’t make sense. The pain of abandonment and crushed dreams. The pain of dying and death. The pain of shattered hope. I imagine the followers of Jesus were living in the in-between that Sabbath. Hope was lost on Friday and found on Sunday, but on Saturday they didn’t know what was coming.
The funny thing is, Jesus had actually tried to tell His followers what was going to happen. And not just once, but repeatedly. Time and again He referred to His impending death, but they couldn’t—or wouldn’t—understand. But He also spoke often of hope. Hope in a future where wrongs would be righted, where death would be defeated and where hope dashed would become hope restored.
The older I get, the more I realise that Saturday is my favourite day of the Easter weekend. I find comfort in thinking about the in-between, maybe because my own life is filled with so much in-betweenness. I’ve experienced both horror and joy at different times in my life, but most often I feel like I inhabit in-between spaces.
Between parenting small children and raising young adults.
Between caring for ageing parents and caring for my family.
Between leaving the job I loved that burned me out and finding
Between caring for ageing parents and caring for my family. . . . Yes, I live in the in-between. It’s often a place of confusion and waiting.
whatever comes next.
Between youthfulness and old age.
Between the past and the future.
Between the now and the not-yet.
Yes, I live in the in-between. It’s often a place of confusion and waiting. It’s a place of mourning what’s been left behind while not quite being able to see the blessings of what comes next.
But it’s also a place of rest, togetherness and hope.
You see, with the benefit of hindsight, I know how the story ends. In the darkness of living in the in-between, Jesus is still the light. Why? Because I know joy comes in the morning.
The death and resurrection of Jesus is at the very heart of Christian theology. It’s the moment where Jesus, the perfect Lamb of God, died in our place, carried the weight of our collective sin and defeated eternal death once and for all. This act brought salvation—the saving of people from their sins—for all who accept Jesus, then and now. Without the death and resurrection of Jesus, everything else in Christianity becomes meaningless. Christmas becomes just another cute story of a baby born in Bethlehem. Easter becomes a myth. Jesus becomes just another good teacher and the power of death still reigns supreme in the universe. The events we remember at Easter are the defining events of Christianity.
Good Friday was filled with horror.
Easter Sunday was filled with joy.
Saturday was filled with waiting, mourning and disappointment. Saturday was also filled with rest and togetherness and fragile hope.
In this season of my life, I often find myself living in the in-between. But along with the pain, confusion and fear, I cling to hope. Because like those faithful women who attended Jesus’ tomb that Sunday morning, I know one thing to be true: He is risen!
Karen Collum is a children’s author, storyteller and teacher. She is based on the Gold Coast, Queensland.
EARTHQUAKES AND BIRTH PAINS
The surprising similarity between the end of the world and what most mothers have to go through during pregnancy.
BY LEESA BRIONES
What do earthquakes and birth pains have in common? Well, for one thing, Jesus what was happening, and I shouted, “Everyone outside!” It was like a dream. We ran around like headless mentioned them together when His disciples asked about the signs of His soon return in Matthew chapter 24, and there is a surprising link between them—an analogy that can give us hope in unstable times.
Recently the Australian state of Victoria—where I live—was surprised by the strongest earthquake recorded in our area— measuring 5.9 on the
Richter scale. “ official safety We felt very “shaken” to realise that the ground beneath our feet is not We were completely always as underprepared as we solid as we thought! I had never expected an can’t say my earthquake to happen response was even slightly logical.
I had never practised an earthquake drill with my family, and we weren’t expecting one at all on that beautiful, sunny morning. I was standing right next to the sliding glass door at the back of our house, and suddenly felt it begin to shake violently, as if buffeted by a huge gust of wind! However, when I opened the door, I could tell it wasn’t windy at all. That’s when we realised chickens—running from one end of the house to the other and out the front door. The kids called out to my husband and warned him about the earthquake, but he’s from Chile, so he didn’t even get out of bed! Later on we realised that if we were going to evacuate, we should have gone through the nearest door. Not to mention that running outside is not the advice for earthquakes; it was just an intuitive reaction to the human feeling of not wanting to be trapped. We were completely unprepared as we had never expected an earthquake to happen in Melbourne. end of the world Jesus and His disciples had just visited the temple in Jerusalem. The disciples were awe-struck by its beauty and tried to call Jesus’ attention to look at its magnificence. It was a magnificent structure; built of huge stones with features of pure
gold and fine craftsmanship. But Jesus told the disciples that not even one stone would be left on top of another at a later point in the future.
As Jesus and His disciples were later resting on the Mount of Olives, they came to Him privately and asked Him to reveal more about the future—what would be the sign of His return and the end of the world? The Bible describes the scenario in Matthew chapter 24:
“Jesus left the temple and was walking away when His disciples came up to him to call his attention to its buildings. ‘Do you see all these things?’ he asked. ‘Truly I tell you, not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down’” (verses 1 and 2).
It continues. “As Jesus was sitting on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to Him privately. ‘Tell us,’ they said, ‘when will this happen, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?’ Jesus answered: ‘Watch out that no-one deceives you. For many will come in my name, claiming, “I am the Messiah”,
and will deceive many. You will hear of wars and rumours of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of birth pains’ (verses 3-8).”
Jesus’ first prophecy was partly a warning of the horrific destruction of Jerusalem, and in fact, because of His thorough warning, His followers were able to escape from the city before its downfall. When Roman soldiers finally swept in at the siege of Jerusalem in 70 AD (some 40 years after Jesus' warning)—after a long siege where many starved to death—they were merciless and the streets ran with rivers of blood and the city was set ablaze. The magnificent temple caught fire and its mighty structure— which would have been one of the wonders of the ancient world—was reduced to rubble.
Jesus also said that earthquakes were one of the signs of His soon return. He described wars, famines and pestilences, and He used the analogy of birth pains! Why would He use that term? In my humble understanding of birth pains, there could be two reasons for this, and it is not because Jesus wanted to scare His followers, but because He wanted to encourage them. If you have ever experienced birth pains (I have), you would know that as they progress, they get more intense, as well as closer together. In fact, I remember wondering towards the end of labour, Why does it feel like there’s no gap between them at all? The intensity at the end feels almost overwhelming, and the pain is exhausting—you just want it to be over. Jesus was honest with His followers in letting them know that
things would not get easier toward the end. However, His warnings were not recorded to scare us, but to encourage us, and that brings us to the second reason for the birth pain analogy—the whole reason why you willingly suffer through birth pains in the first place. It’s not a cliché to say you forget all the pain as you experience the joy of meeting your
Jesus' words in the Bible are not recorded to scare us, but to encourage us
child for the first time.
Jesus was sharing these prophecies with His followers so that they could be ready, and so that they could be encouraged. This is why Jesus said, “When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near” (Luke 21:28). All of the pain
and pressure is not a signal to fear, but a beacon of hope, an invitation for us to look to God for our help and salvation. When we see disasters happening, God’s Word tells us not to focus on the disasters and be scared, but to “lift up your heads”—to look up and be ready to meet Jesus.
How can we be ready? It’s simpler than you might think. Jesus reaches out, inviting you to put your trust in Him. Allow Him to give you the gift of healing and restoration. If you want Him to be Lord of your life today, all you need to do is ask. Pray and ask Him into your heart. Then ask Him to give you repentance (that means turning away from sin), and to forgive all of your sins, and
to cover you with His perfect life so that you can be with Him when He returns. God has always wanted everyone to come to Him—He doesn’t want anyone to miss out on the wonderful life He has in store for us in heaven.
TINNAKORN JORRUANG—GETTY IMAGES Leesa Briones is a lifestyle medicine student with a background in education. She lives with her family in Melbourne.
