This evening in our series on ‘The Miraculous & The Mundane’, we looked at Easter Saturday, ostensibly the day of no miracles. This day, sandwiched between the despair and desolation of Good Friday and the glorious hope of Easter Sunday, is only mentioned in Matthew 27:62—66, and seems to be the epitome of the mundane, when nothing much seems to be happening and God seems strangely absent. We all know about the highs and lows of life, but what do we do about the humdrum and the routine, which seem to comprise the majority of our lives? Where is God in those ordinary moments?

Easter Saturday is the time when we are stuck between the ‘now’ and the ‘not yet’, when the heaviness of living in a sinful world weighs upon us, and when living by faith seems beyond us. In that sense, it’s symbolic of the vast majority of our lives, because we are all in that limbo period between the resurrection of Jesus Christ and His second coming, when He will judge the living and the dead. We are all anticipating that final battle and we long for the day when ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.’ (Rev 21:4) But on Easter Saturday, there is no sign of the final outcome, the solution, the end to suffering. There is simply darkness, pain, confusion and bewilderment.

Just because we do not see God at work in miraculous ways does not mean He is not working, however. Peter tells us, ‘After being made alive, he went and made proclamation to the imprisoned spirits – to those who were disobedient long ago when God waited patiently in the days of Noah while the ark was being built.’ (1 Pet 3:19-20) It seems that when it looked like nothing was happening, Jesus was still busy, proclaiming to all who had previously died the good news of the gospel.

The ’day of no miracles’, as we are calling Easter Saturday, does not mean a day of no God. God is still there, working, even when we cannot see Him. Jesus said, ‘My Father is always at His work to this very day.’ (John 5:17) Where was God when Joseph was in prison all those years? He was there beside him, helping him to win favour and do good to others. Where was God when the Israelites were wandering around in the desert? He was there, leading them with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. Where was God when the Babylonians came and took Israel captive? He was there, calling His people back to Himself in repentance, speaking through the prophets, declaring His faithfulness and steadfastness even as people turned to other gods and expected a life of comfort and ease.

God is there with us, ‘Immanuel’, whether we feel this or not. He is there in our boredom, in our misery, in our brokenness, in our wrestling, in our questions, in our doubt. He is there in the highlights of our lives and in the lowlights and in everything in between. We can be certain of this not because of our righteousness, not because we deserve His presence, but because He is faithful and true. We can be certain of this because God is not human, that He should lie. (Numbers 23:19) Easter Saturday reminds us that we must live by faith and not by sight (2 Cor 5:7), that ‘there’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever.’ (2 Cor 4:18, The Message) The challenge is for us not to be put off by the everyday and the mundane. God is still the Almighty One, the maker of heaven and earth, the victorious king on Easter Saturday as well as on Resurrection Day. Our unchanging God is still working to this very day, and therefore we have hope. Easter Saturday isn’t the end of the story. Sunday is still coming.