“Sir, (Pilate) we remember what that deceiver once said while he was still alive: ‘After three days I will rise from the dead.’ So, we request that you seal the tomb until the third day. This will prevent his disciples from coming and stealing his body and then telling everyone he was raised from the dead! If that happens, we’ll be worse off than we were at first.” Matt. 27:62-64
Lord Jesus, as “Good Friday” segued into “Silent Saturday,” only the courts of heaven knew where this story was heading. The most undeserved death conceivable would give the greatest return calculable. Having lived for us, you died for us. But your last breath is our first hope. “It is finished” created a sad, scary, silent pause. But it was a “redemptive pause”—soon be broken with, “He is risen!”
Jesus, you weren’t merely destined to get the “last laugh” on evil; you are the eternal “Yes!” to every promise God has made. By your cross the devil was routed, death was defeated, and we are beloved. Your fatal wounding guaranteed our eternal healing. Planted as a single grain of wheat, you would be raised for our total salvation and the world’s utter transformation.
The priests and Pharisees had the Scriptures but no clue. Gladdened by your death, they were fearful of your life. O silly men—they’d sooner hold back the rising of the sun than the rising of the Son of God. No amount of Roman tomb-sealing or zealous grave-guarding could stop the inevitable.
Resurrection Sunday was coming, and there was absolutely nothing they could do about it. Everything broken and ugly was “fixin’” to become “all things new” and beautiful. Hallelujah, everything was about to change, everything. So Very Amen.