To Remain
Between Friday and Sunday was Saturday.
It is an elementary concept with great revelatory weight for the believer. On Friday, it was finished. The High Priest presented His life as a sacrifice to the Father then interceded and atoned for the sins of His people. On Sunday He would rise in glory and magnificence, exiting a borrowed tomb into the torn veil of the Holy of Holies.
Between Friday and Sunday was Saturday.
Before His body would rise, it laid. The world did not sit in the tension of what would come next for the world did not anticipate it. Sorrow morphed into stunned silence. He was dead. Not only was He killed but He was mocked, brutally beaten, stripped naked, spit on, flogged, pierced, and killed. Imagine the minds of the eleven, tormented by confusion. Not only were they grieving but they were unraveling. They followed this Man for three years and believed Him to be the Messiah. This Man made boatfuls of fish appear out of nowhere. This Man turned water into wine. This Man fed 5,000 with just two fish and five loaves then again fed 4,000 with seven loaves and a few small fish. This Man gave sight to the blind. This man made lepers clean. This Man gave mobility to the paralyzed. This Man delivered souls from demonic oppression. This man even brought the dead to life. These were not occurrences they heard of. These were all occurrences they had witnessed. And they did not witness as bystanders. They witnessed as students, being trained to one day do the same. How could the story end here?
In the silence, hope seemed to fade. In the silence, faith seemed to fail. In the silence, fear seemed to dominate.
But in the silence, Jesus remained.
John 15:1-7 is part of Jesus’ final instructions to His disciples in the Upper Room before His crucifixion. Despite all He’s shown them thus far, He highlights what He knows they would need upon His departure. In this portion of scripture, He speaks of abiding— remaining.
“‘I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more. You have already been pruned and purified by the message I have given you.
Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me. Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing. Anyone who does not remain in me is thrown away like a useless branch and withers. Such branches are gathered into a pile to be burned.’” (v. 1-6)
Here, Jesus paints a picture of complete dependence. He does not paint Himself as a friend, for you can exist without one. He does not paint Himself as a precious jewel, for you can survive without one. He does not paint Himself as a beloved family member, for you can endure without them. He does not paint Himself as a master, for you can serve without one. He paints Himself as a grapevine and His people are branches attached to His vine. The branches cannot exist, survive, endure, or serve without being connected to the true vine. They don’t have their own roots and cannot be planted. They must fully rely on the vine for life. All that the vine receives, the branches receive. When the vine is watered, the branch’s thirst is quenched. If the vine receives nutrients from the soil, the branch is nourished. Jesus, as the true vine, is not a supplement. Jesus, as the true vine, is the Source. As the Source, His connection lasts— even in deathly silence.
The responsibility of the branch is to remain.
The vine is well kept, as it is carefully tended to by the Father. The Father is primarily concerned with the production of fruit— doing whatever is necessary to receive the most harvest from what He’s planted. That includes cutting off branches that are not producing fruit and pruning branches to produce more fruit. The eleven spent three years with Christ, being pruned and purified by His message. Christ’s chosen will continue to be pruned and purified until He returns in glory. However, in the pruning, they will not be disconnected from the Source for the Source continues to be tended to— an eternal Source of living water and nourishment.
The responsibility of the branch is to remain.
‘“But if you remain in me and my words remain in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted!’” (v. 7)
Remaining in Him gifts us access but remaining in Him requires perserverance. To remain speaks of consistent and intentional pursuit. To remain is a state of being, not a one-time achievement. To remain means to rest, trusting that this state of being allows for fruitful prayers. To remain means to grow in knowledge and dependency on the Source, allowing for firmer confidence, greater joy, richer peace, and beautiful intimacy. The Source is responsible for all that is firmer, greater, richer, and more beautiful.
The responsibility of the branch is to remain.
Could it be that Silent Saturday is a reinforcement of Jesus’ message in John 15:1-7?
The Source was still being tended to by the Father, even as His dead body lay in a borrowed tomb. His branches, the eleven, were being pruned and purified by this experience to produce more fruit. What they experienced on Silent Saturday would inform their Sunday and empower their work beyond Sunday.
On the other side of silence came glory. To experience that glory, they would need to trust that the vine could never be uprooted— even if it seemed as though He had been.
To remain is to yield to the plans of God, even if they make no sense to us; to abide by His pace, even in discomfort. Jesus’ body lying in the borrowed tomb was a physical reflection of what was expected spiritually. Though it made no sense for the Son of God to die, the body remained. Though the body would be returned to glory, it must first lay in discomfort— trusting that the Source of its life, though away, was not gone.
Jesus warned of the Father’s pruning process. We must not be surprised when it comes. Rather, we must remain and abide until glory arrives. The pruning prepares us for the darkened reality of Saturday. And Sunday was made greater by the darkened reality of Saturday.
Those who remained and trusted the timing of God’s plan— despite the looming despair— were the first to witness glory.