I wrote this many years ago and post it every Easter weekend as a reminder. May it speak to you in some small way.
Gray Saturday
by Steve Laube
Holy weekend is such a study in contrasts.
Friday is dark. Somber. Frightening in its hopelessness and pain.
I do not like Dark Fridays.
The nails bury themselves deep into my soul.
They become a singular stake through the heart of this sinner.
Piercing. Rending. Bloody.
Vanquishing this creature of the night who dares to follow his own way.
Christ’s death becomes mine.
The death I deserve.
Alone. Anguishing. Agonizing.
There is no one or nothing that can assuage this dreary weight upon me.
I stand in silence. Staring at the stars and wondering if they can hear my cry or if they care.
Saturday is Gray.
Caught between the darkness and the dawn.
We move around as if yesterday had not happened.
Errands. Busyness. The Routine. They conspire to distract from the lessons.
The mundane becomes standard. Bleak. Meaningless. Gray.
Why did Jesus have to wait for the weekend?
Why this middle day of contemplation and forgetfulness?
When night comes we will have survived the gray day.
But only because we know tomorrow is only hours away.
What would it be like if we did not know such hope?
Sunday is Light.
A celebration of life, love and hope.
It is only because of Sunday that we can face the Fridays of turmoil.
Lift your face toward the dawn.
See the grace that speeds across the hills as the sun licks each place with its touch.
The Son touches your face and the chills of rapture spread to the tips of your toes.
This gives us reason to live.
This gives us reason to love.
This gives us reason to hope.
To live where there is no life.
To love where there is no love.
To hope where there is none to be found.
Unfortunately, we all live in the Saturday Gray.
Forgetting the darkness and depth of our sinfulness.
Forgetting the truth found in the dawn.
Let us be mindful of this during the coming months.
We have been given a choice of days in which we can live.
None of us want to wallow in Dark Friday.
None of us should be satisfied with Gray Saturday.
Instead let us celebrate and embrace the peace and warmth of the gracious gift of Christ’s resurrection and life.
© 2002 Steve Laube
Thank you, Steve, for this beautiful and poignant summary of this weekend.
This morning I was thinking about Friday, Saturday, Sunday. We who know the outcome find it difficult to imagine what it must have been like for His followers. Then I thought of the assassination of John Kennedy (He was the hero of young America at the time, regardless of our later maturing viewpoints). It happened on a Friday (actually it was my birthday). On that gray Saturday, stunned and inert, we watched reruns ad infinitum wondering what would happen next. On Sunday, there seemed to be a “resurrection” of sorts when churches were filled to the aisles with people seeking understanding – then the stunning news of Oswald’s death, also on live TV, repeated ad infinitum.
How great that our Resurrection Sunday is real, never to be compromised by the local news at eleven.
Since you offer a Share button to Facebook, I will pass it along. I feel it should receive wide distribution.
Thank you.
Thank you for posting this.
I think it’s useful to consider what Saturday was like for the disciples. I know I often take Sunday for granted from my post-resurrection perspective.
Life looks far different when we live it in light of the fact that we have been both crucified and raised in Christ. It reminds me of the “put-off, put-on” principle–yes, our old lives have been carried away, but now we must live new ones.
“See the grace that speeds across the hills
as the sun licks each place with its touch.
The Son touches your face and the chills
of rapture spread to the tips of your toes.
This gives us reason to live.
This gives us reason to love.
This gives us reason to hope.
To live where there is no life.
To love where there is no love.
To hope where there is none to be found.”
Apropos for Easter and Poetry Month. This section quivers, shivers with hope.
Lovely.
Thanks, Steve. Great stuff. I posted to my Facebook profile.
This is wonderful, Steve. Thanks.
That’s awesome, Steve. Thanks for sharing this.
Mike
Thank you for sharing that. Beautiful!
What a beautiful way to see this holy week. I’ve never asked myself why the Saturday wait and that question makes me even more aware of His sacrifice and love for us.
Thank you for letting us all peek inside–through our books you always know what’s going on in our heads so this is a great change! I’m not surprised to find just what I thought would be in your heart.
Carla
Thank you, Steve. What insight into our Saturday kind of life.
Thank you, I enjoyed reading this, it was wonderful. Thanks again for sharing it w/ me.
Thanks for sharing this, Steve. It’s a wonderful reminder to carry throughout this week, which began with a lovely Sunday.
All the adjectives already given apply to this piece, Steve. Beautiful writing. Poignant. Wonderful. Thank you for sharing your heart…and your faith. Had I made it to Mount Hermon this year, I would have been in your workshop. Reading this makes it plain what depth and insights I missed and even more sorry I wasn’t there.
Easter makes our hearts sing, but we’re no use if we keep that joyful shout inside. That’s our every-day challenge, isn’t it?
“Lift your face toward the dawn. / See the grace that speeds across the hills as the sun licks each place with its touch. / The Son touches your face and the chills of rapture spread to the tips of your toes.”
Ah, Steve. I’m posting this on my bathroom mirror. I need more of HIM in the morning, in fresh ways, things that wake me up, shake me up, and rouse me from the gray heaviness of an overwhelming to-do list. I need to roll that stone away, roll it over onto Him and walk in risen strength. Give Him my yoke so I can take His. Light. Easy. New with each dawn.
THANK YOU for sharing your heart and your poetry.
Thank you to each and every one who has commented here, posted a note on the Facebook entry, or emailed me privately. It has been humbling to say the least. May God continue to bless you all as we each seek to be conformed to His will, His good and perfect will.
Steve
So powerful.
Thank you for reposting. I’m glad I didn’t miss this.
This bears repeating – and not just on Easter. We probably need the reminder again in August and December as well as April. Beautifully written, by the way. Thank you for posting it again. I missed it previously.
You are truly a gifted poet. I loved the last couple that you shared … very meaningful. Thank you!
Let us remember all three days, but let us not live in the despair of Friday nor the complacency of Saturday, but let us rejoice in the light of Sunday! Beautiful post. Thank you for sharing it.
Beautiful, poetic, and needed. Thank you.
Beautiful! Thanks for sharing!
Thanks Steve for sharing this every year. This is the first Easter weekend I’ve been subscribed to your blog.
My own blog is peering into the Easter time frame. It will be a while before I get to Sabbath, but I agree that it was a time of deep reflection for Jesus’s followers who didn’t know what Sunday’s dawn would bring. Those of us who do know should take the time to refect on the depth of the entire event to everybody.
I’m so glad you repost this. It’s fantastic.
This definitely spoke to me today…thank you so much for sharing with us. SO looking forward to celebrating His Resurrection tomorrow!!!
Loved your ponderings from the personal struggles out of the death of sin into the resurrected life. You might enjoy my post titled, “Resurrection from the Grand Canyon.” on inkspiring19.com
Absolutely beautiful and so right. We DO live in Gray Saturday. Thank you a timely reminder. I’m going to print this out and keep it next to my desk.
I have so enjoyed both today’s and yesterday’s inspired poems. Thank you for posting them. Happy Easter to you and yours, Steve!