Holy Week Day 7: Holy Saturday
Hell’s Silence, Heaven’s Strategy
The Hidden War of Holy Saturday
The earth was quiet — eerily so.
No miracles.
No thunder from heaven.
No crowds shouting, “Hosanna” or “Crucify.”
Just… silence.
But silence can be deceptive.
Holy Saturday, they would later call it —
But on that day, it felt anything but holy.
Mary, His mother, sat in quiet sorrow, staring into nothing. The face she kissed as a baby was now torn and buried behind a Roman seal. Did the angel lie? Was He really the Son of God? Her heart ached with unanswered questions — and yet, she remembered His words. “On the third day…”
The disciples, scattered and hiding, were wrestling with guilt and disillusionment.
Had we been deceived?
Did we give up everything for nothing?
He warned us this would happen — but we hoped He was wrong. We hoped the kingdom would come with swords, not a cross.
The religious leaders exhaled in cautious relief. Finally, the so-called Messiah was silenced. The troublemaker was buried. But their paranoia remained — what if His followers try something? So, they rushed to Pilate, demanding elite Roman guards and an imperial seal.
Pilate, the governor who found no fault in Him, watched the chaos he helped create — not out of justice, but out of political survival. The people cried for blood, and he gave it to them. Rome was about peace, not truth.
The centurion, though hardened by death, stood haunted by what he witnessed.
“Surely… this was the Son of God.”
He had seen death many times — but never like this.
And above all this uneasy calm, echoing in the minds of some… were Jesus’ words:
“Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains alone…”
“As Jonah was three days in the belly of the fish, so the Son of Man must be in the heart of the earth.”
Yes — the tomb was full… but something was emptying.
Down below — in the depths of the unseen
Hell threw a victory party.
The first Adam failed. Now the second had fallen — or so they thought.Chains rattled. Darkness laughed.
Satan grinned, believing he had won again.The prince of darkness raised a cup: “Another messiah silenced.”
But then…
the gates of hell trembled.A sound — not from earth, but from glory.
A presence… not of death, but of divine authority.
Jesus stepped in. Not as a victim — but as a King.
A blinding presence tore through the shadows.
The gates of hell groaned under the weight of divine authority.
Jesus entered — but not alone.He brought with Him chains — not His, but theirs.
The ones hell had used on mankind since Eden.
Chains of condemnation.
Chains of fear.
Chains of shame and guilt.He came to break them all.
And as He entered…
Adam, perhaps, looked in stunned silence.
Could this be… the seed? The one promised to crush the serpent’s head?Eve, with eyes wet from millennia of regret, dared to ask:
“Is this the child? My hope?”Abraham, the father of faith, leaned forward in wonder:
“Did I believe for Him? Is this the One for whom I hoped against hope?”David, the psalmist-king, felt his spirit leap:
“Could this be the heir who will sit on my throne forever?”And the answer to every yearning heart,
to every prophecy and shadow,
was a resounding, thunderous:
Yes.Their hope was not disappointed.
Jesus disarmed the powers and principalities.
He humiliated them openly —
Triumphing over them by the cross.The chains were broken.
The gates of brass shattered.
The bars of iron twisted like twigs.
He preached to the prisoners — not a message of pity, but of power.
And He led captivity captive.
Those once bound were now free.
The prisoners of hope were now sons of light.He didn’t just break His own chains —
He broke ours.
All the way back to Adam.Declaring “The Kingdom has come.”
They rose — the righteous dead — long bound in hope deferred.
And soon, they would walk again on earth, first partakers of the gospel fulfilled.
He took the keys.
He crushed the scrolls of accusation.
He tore down the dividing wall between God and man.
What looked like silence on earth…
Was a storm in the spirit realm.
What looked like defeat…
Was the final deathblow to death itself.
Hell’s kitchen went cold.
Satan’s grip slipped.
And for the first time, in that shadowed realm… the light of the world shone.
What looked like defeat was divine deception.
What looked like a tomb was actually a doorway.
What looked like silence was the sound of chains breaking.Soon the grave would open.
Soon death would lose its sting.
Soon, the King of Glory would rise — not just alive, but victorious.Back on earth, it was still Saturday.
Still silent.
But not for long.
Because the King of Glory was about to knock.
And the gates of death would open, not in resistance — but in awe.
“Lift up your heads, O gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of Glory may come in!” (Psalm 24:7)
Holy Saturday is not the end of the story.
It is the silence before the song.
The darkness before the dawn.
The unseen battle before the eternal breakthrough.
Earth was holding its breath.
Heaven was setting the stage.
And hell… was already defeated.
The battle was already won on Holy ring, on Holy ground, on Holy Saturday
- 3 Replies
Kingdom Pioneer The war in silence was for me. To see the victorious life I live today and understand what had transpired on this day is mind blowing and I will always remember this. In the dark moment , a lot is going on in the spiritual realm to bring me joy in the dawn. Hallelujah! It’s a safe place and thank you for these week’s exposition 🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌
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Verified
Kingdom Pioneer
An awe-inspiring read. Glory to God!
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Trusted
Kingdom Pioneer
“What you consider a tomb might be a door way”
Profound! 🔥 That has been the story of my life. Silence is a powerful spiritual warfare tactics.
Isaiah 30:15 (KJV)
“For thus saith the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel; In returning and rest shall ye be saved; in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength: and ye would not.”
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