Holy Saturday is the day we remember Jesus was dead. He lived, for a full day, in the country of death.
In one of the more bewildering scenes in the Bible, the Lord of glory dies and someone takes his body, wraps it up in haste, and buries it in a grave.
This is Jesus we are talking about. The one whose words made worlds. And he was dead. Truly dead. In a tomb, dead. As in, a corpse, dead. Dead.
“In him was life and that life was the light of men” (John 1:4). And now, that life and that light were snuffed out.
There will come a day— if it has not come already — when the fact that Christ has gone ahead of us into death will be a great comfort to you. When someone has gone somewhere scary first, it makes you not as afraid to go there. It also makes you unafraid for the ones who have gone before, because in Christ they are safe.
And Jesus will come out on the other side, alive and well. Holding the keys. Death defeated. All enemies under his feet.
This means that we will come through, too. He will, “also raise us up by his power” (1 Corinthians 6:14).
He has made the way through the valley of death, and he has made it a shadow. A total disarming.
And we don’t have to be afraid.