Holy Saturday, the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, is one of the most overlooked yet profoundly important days in the Christian calendar. It is a day that resists easy answers and invites us to inhabit the uncomfortable space between death and resurrection, between despair and hope. Over the last few years, I have come to see Holy Saturday as the sacrament of waiting—a day that speaks directly to our human experience of uncertainty, grief, and the longing for new life.
Entering Liminality
Holy Saturday is a day of silence. The Gospels record little activity: Jesus’ body rests in the tomb, the disciples hide in fear, and the world holds its breath. The Apostles’ Creed says that Christ “descended to the dead,” a phrase that captures the harrowing mystery of this day. Theologian Alexander Schmemann writes, “Holy Saturday is the day on which Christ reposed in the tomb. The Church calls this day the Blessed Sabbath…By using this title the Church links Holy Saturday with the creative act of God…On the Blessed Sabbath He rests from all His works”. In this rest, Christ completes the work of redemption, echoing the divine rest of creation.
But for the disciples, Holy Saturday was not a day of theological reflection. It was a day of confusion, fear, and shattered expectations. Their Messiah was dead, their hopes dashed, and their future uncertain. In this way, Holy Saturday becomes a mirror for our own seasons of doubt and waiting. It is the day that gives voice to our unanswered prayers, our grief, and our longing for resurrection that has not yet come.
A Sacrament of Honest Doubt and Hope
Holy Saturday is not just a pause between the drama of Good Friday and the joy of Easter. It is a day that honors the reality of grief and the necessity of hope. As one writer puts it, “Holy Saturday is a celebration of the sacrament of honest, raw doubt that precedes the resurrection and reigniting of faith”.
This day reminds us that faith is not always triumphant. Sometimes, faith is simply waiting in the darkness, trusting that God is at work even when we cannot see it. As Barbara Brown Taylor writes in Learning to Walk In the Dark,“New life starts in the dark. Whether it is a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or Jesus in the tomb, it starts in the dark.”1
The empty cross of Holy Saturday is a symbol not only of Christ’s death but also of the hope that death does not have the final word. As one author observes, “Every Holy Saturday, the Church waits as it were beside the tomb, meditating on Christ’s death while awaiting the announcement of his resurrection…The King is not dead; he rests from his work. A new day will come. His Cross is not defeat; it is victory!”
Holy Saturday and the Church’s Witness
For the church, Holy Saturday is a call to embrace the in-between. We live in the tension of the already and the not yet—the kingdom has come, but it is not yet fully realized. In our communities, we encounter people who are living their own Holy Saturdays: those who are grieving, doubting, or waiting for God to act. The church’s task is not to rush past this day but to stand with those who wait, to hold space for lament, and to point toward the hope of resurrection.
Holy Saturday is a day to practice presence. It is a day to sit with the questions, to honor the pain, and to trust that God is at work in the silence. It is a day that teaches us to be patient with ourselves and with others, to recognize that resurrection often comes slowly and unexpectedly.
Conclusion
Holy Saturday is a vital part of the Christian story. It is the day that holds our grief and our hope together, reminding us that God is present even in the silence and the waiting. As Schmemann notes, “All things are again as they should be. His mission is consummated. On the Blessed Sabbath He rests from all His works”. In this rest, we find the courage to wait, to hope, and to believe that resurrection is coming—even when all we see is the tomb.
Barbara Brown Taylor, Learning to Walk in the Dark (HarperOne, 2014), p. 12.