Lent is a season where we prepare for both mourning and victory. Justice is a lifelong season where we experience mourning and hope for victory. Yet, they find themselves mixed together because Jesus on the cross also means we can live the rest of our days both seeing and hoping for justice.
And then there’s Holy Saturday – which can feel never-ending. A day where the memory of Good Friday is excruciating and the hope for Sunday feels illogical.
For many of us, Saturday is a day of rest. For some it’s sabbath. For others, it’s a workday. But for Israel, the Saturday between Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday was a day of waiting. Waiting for justice. Waiting for victory. Waiting for protection. Waiting for hope. Waiting for God’s promised word to be met with real proof of His power.
In the very beginning of God, as we know Him, we see the creation narrative being told and formed through the words coming out of God’s mouth – the literal words of God. You see it said over and over in Genesis 1 where it says, “God said and it was so”. Yet, on the day after Good Friday – people waited to see if Jesus’ words of Him stating He would resurrect actually would come to pass. Waiting to see if Isaiah 55:11 was actually true.
So many of us are waiting for the same thing. We are waiting for a dignified resolve. We are waiting for a time where BIPOC people can actually live fear-free and in the abundance John 10:10 states. We are waiting for a resurrection Sunday where we get to shout in victory. We are waiting for the promise of the fulfilled prophecy found in Luke 4:18 to be something that’s evident in our very own lives.
The thing about a prophecy is that if it truly comes from God then that must mean it’ll truly come to pass. Luke 4:18 is a reference from a prophecy in Isaiah 61:1 and Jesus references this prophecy when He enters the temple, carefully opens the scroll, and boldly proclaims this prophecy has been fulfilled.
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed.” – Luke 4:18 (ESV)
And although we didn’t witness that moment in person and we aren’t Jewish, doesn’t this apply to us all? But in our waiting on a Saturday it may feel like this applies to some and for others it doesn’t. And when I say others, I mean us.
Holy Saturday seems to have become our life. A day of waiting for a promise. A day that exists beyond twenty-four hours. A long weekend that finds itself living in our everyday life. Seeing injustice after injustice. Dehumanization and discrimination. Microaggressions to macro ones. Regulating our speech, hair, and style. Assuming the worst or thinking we’re the exception. Witnessing a body being broken by bullies who want us bound from boldly living free. Our life is the story of lent. The story of overcoming and victory. Not allowing death to defeat or define us. The story that goes beyond the assumed narrative and states the truth about the image-bearing body we walk in daily.
So yes, Saturday is painful and hard to live in. But you know what? It’s also a Holy Day. It’s known as Holy Saturday because it still holds sanctification. It holds a purpose. It holds a hope within it because it’s not the end of the story.
Holy Saturday can feel heavy and long – living in this world of constant witnessing of injustices. Yet, Sunday comes. Sunday will arrive. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even next year. But it will come just as it did on the cross over 2,000 years ago. While they waited on that Saturday, they waited for Sunday. For a promised and prophesied victory. For a hope that may seem illogical but makes sense when we see His scars.
While we wait on Saturday, we get to stay hopeful. We get to keep going each day fighting for justice, mourning injustice, and helping both ourselves and others see that the story didn’t end on a Good Friday, it didn’t stay on Holy Saturday, but it arrived victoriously on Resurrection Sunday.
Same goes for all the injustice that we see – it isn’t the end of the story.
So while we wait we can bring our lament, disappointment, tears, pain, struggles, questions, confusion, to both the cross and also the empty tomb. Knowing that the emptiness found there means a fulfillment of freedom found here within us just as it was prophesied in Isaiah 61:1.But until all of that comes to pass – we can continue to hope and lament while we meditate on Isaiah 30:18 “For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for him.” (ESV)
Pricelis Perreaux-Dominguez is an entrepreneur, writer, coach, advocate, creator, Bible teacher, and social worker. Her mission is to celebrate others, point people to Jesus, and live out Biblical justice. She’s a mother and a wife who lives in New York City and serves as the Economic Empowerment Manager at International Rescue Committee. Pricelis is the Founder/CEO of Full Collective.
Our lent blog series celebrates the life, death, and resurrection of our liberator. We enter the forty days understanding that it is one of solidarity. Chasing Justice will be guiding our community through the lent with Instagram posts for sharing with friends and guest blogs by BIPOC authors.
The views and opinions expressed on the Chasing Justice Blog are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Chasing Justice. Any content provided by our bloggers or authors are of their opinion and are not intended to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, individual or anyone or anything.
