Matthew records two earthquakes at the end of his Gospel due to the fact that each one marks a different divine act—one at Jesus’ death (judgment and cosmic tearing, if you could call it that), and one at His resurrection (new creation and divine vindication as it appears).
1. The First Earthquake — Matthew 27:51
This quake erupts the moment Jesus dies, signalling - judgment of the old order, or a closing out if you will, where the temple veil tears from top to bottom. This is not a quiet symbol. It’s the collapse of the barrier between God and humanity, and the shaking of the temple‑centred world.
Matthew uses prophetic language (as do Isaiah, Ezekiel, Nahum) where the earth trembles when God judges or intervenes. At this stage, in Matthew's writing, it marks the end of an age. Jesus’ death is portrayed as the turning point of history. The quake marks the closing of something.
This earthquake is downward energy—collapse, tearing, breaking open graves. It’s the shaking of what was.
2. The Second Earthquake — Matthew 28:2
This quake happens at the resurrection, when the angel descends and rolls back the stone, signalling the new creation
The earth shakes at this time, but not in judgment—this is the birth‑quake of a new order; the beginning of a new era.
The angel brings divine vindication on the moment. The angel’s descent is framed like a theophany (a visible manifestation of deity). Heaven touches earth, and the earth responds.
This time it’s the reversal of death and defines the difference between the first quake which opened graves and the second quake which reveals the empty tomb.
This earthquake is upward energy—opening, revealing, resurrecting.
3. Why Matthew includes both when none of the other writers of the gospels included both earthquakes.
Matthew loves paired signs. He uses them to show transition: Two blind men healed. Two demoniacs. Two donkeys for the triumphal entry. Two witnesses at the tomb. Two earthquakes. He is showing a before and after, a death and resurrection, a judgment and renewal.
Matthew is the only Gospel writer who includes both quakes because he wants you to feel the cosmic scale of what is happening: Heaven and earth themselves respond to Jesus.
4. The deeper theological thread
Matthew is quietly echoing the prophets:
- Haggai 2:6–7 — “I will shake the heavens and the earth… and the desire of nations will come.”
- Ezekiel 37 — resurrection imagery tied to shaking.
- Joel 2 — cosmic trembling before the day of the Lord.
In other words:
The death shakes off the old creation while the resurrection shakes the new into existence.
So, what happened to the saints when tombs were opened? Matthew does not say the saints walked around for two days waiting. The graves opened at Jesus’ death, but the saints themselves did not rise or move until after His resurrection. During that interval, were they simply dead? Were they simply dead but awaiting the moment Christ broke death’s power?
Now let’s go deeper, because this passage is one of the more symbolically charged passages in the entire Gospel. Matthew 27:52–53 gives a sequence, so we have an understanding of what truly went on when the graves were opened:
1. At Jesus’ death:
- The veil tears
- The earth quakes
- The tombs open
- The bodies of many holy ones are exposed (but not yet raised).
2. After Jesus’ resurrection:
- They were raised
- They came out of the tombs
- They appeared to many in the holy city.
Matthew is extremely careful with the timing. The opening of the tombs is not the resurrection. The resurrection of the saints is after Jesus rises. This is Matthew’s way of saying: No one rises before the Firstborn from the dead.
So what were they “doing” in those days? The short answer: Nothing. They were dead, or if not dead, they hadn’t risen. Their tombs were opened, but they remained in the state of death, or a state of perhaps unconsciousness, until Jesus’ resurrection unleashed resurrection power.
Think of it like this: The earthquake breaks the seal of death’s territory but life does not return until the Resurrection Himself rises. Matthew is not describing conscious activity. He is describing a prophetic sign: the graves are opened in anticipation of what Jesus is about to do.
Why then, are the tombs opened early? This is where the symbolism becomes breathtaking.
1. It shows that Jesus’ death already cracks open the realm of death.
The moment He dies, the boundary between life and death is breached.
2. It visually prefigures the resurrection before it happens.
The opened tombs are like pregnant earth, waiting for the moment of birth.
3. It shows that resurrection is not an isolated event. Jesus’ resurrection is not just His victory.
It immediately spills outward into others.
4. It fulfils Ezekiel 37 imagery
- Graves opened
- Breath of God entering the dead
- A people raised to life
- A sign to Israel.
Matthew is deliberately echoing this. Why? Matthew is showing a magnificent two-stage event:
Stage 1 — Death breaks the old creation
- First earthquake
- Veil torn
- Tombs opened
- Darkness
- Judgment
This is the end of something.
Stage 2 — Resurrection births the new creation
- Another earthquake
- Angel descends
- Stone rolled back
- Jesus rises
- The saints rise with Him
This is the beginning of something.
The saints do not rise until Jesus rises because He is the first-fruit. No one outruns the Firstborn. Life follows Him.
So, what were the saints doing? If we phrase it symbolically, not literally: They were waiting in stillness while the world shifted. They were lying in opened tombs while the old age died. They were poised between worlds, held in the pause between death and life.
It is the same “holy stillness” of Holy Saturday—the day between cross and resurrection. It’s where something has cracked open but the new life hasn’t yet emerged; the tomb is open, but the body hasn’t moved and where the earthquake has happened, but the resurrection hasn’t arrived.
Matthew’s wording shows us a ‘pause’ — it’s strange, and Matthew intends it to feel strange. The key is this: Matthew is describing two different actions using one sentence, and the Greek grammar allows (and even expects) a time‑gap between them.
Let me give you the clearest explanation I can come up with and then the deeper theological reason Matthew writes it this way.
1. The Greek grammar actually separates the two events.
Matthew 27:52–53 reads (simplified):
- “The tombs were opened…”
- “…and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised…”
- “…and coming out of the tombs after His resurrection, they went into the holy city…”
In Greek, the phrase “after His resurrection” modifies the coming out, not the raising. Meaning:
Event A — Tombs opened at Jesus’ death.
Event B — Saints raised - This verb can grammatically refer to the same moment as the tombs opening, but Matthew delays their movement.
Event C — Saints exit the tombs and appear to many but only after Jesus rises.
So the sequence is:
1. Tombs open (Good Friday).
2. Saints are raised (Good Friday or Holy Saturday — Matthew doesn’t specify the exact moment).
3. Saints exit and appear (Easter Sunday).
Matthew is not describing them walking around for two days. He is describing a resurrection that is “held” until Jesus rises.
So, what were the saints “doing” in the pause? Here is one possible answer: They were alive, but not yet revealed. Matthew does not speak of them wandering, waiting, or interacting. He pictures them as raised but not yet manifested.
Think of it like:
- A seed that has germinated but not yet broken the soil.
- A newborn who has taken breath but not yet been presented.
- A resurrection that has occurred but not yet been unveiled.
The saints are alive, but their public emergence is withheld until Jesus Himself steps out of His tomb. This is why Matthew writes it this way — because the timing is theological, not logistical.
Why would Matthew describe it like this? Because he is making a massive theological point: No resurrection is revealed before Jesus’ resurrection is revealed. Even if they were raised earlier, the saints cannot appear until the Firstborn appears.
This is Matthew’s way of saying:
- Jesus is the First-fruit (1 Cor 15:20).
- Jesus is the Firstborn from the dead (Col 1:18).
- Jesus opens the way for all resurrection life.
Matthew structures the story to show: Jesus rises → then resurrection spreads outward. The saints’ resurrection is like a shockwave that waits for the epicentre; that of the risen Lord. The symbolic meaning of the “pause” is where Matthew’s artistry shines. The saints are: raised but hidden, alive but not yet revealed, waiting in the opened tombs, held in divine suspense.
This mirrors Jesus Himself: He dies. He descends into Hades. He then waits in the tomb. He rises. He is revealed!
Matthew is showing that the saints participate in Jesus’ pattern, not the other way around. The “pause” is not about what they did — it’s about what God was showing.
5. What does the pause mean? The pause is showing the saints’ resurrection is real but not yet unveiled. Their life begins before their appearance. Their rising is tied to Jesus’ rising.
Matthew writes it this way because he wants you to see: The old creation cracks open at Jesus’ death. Resurrection life begins to pulse beneath the surface but nothing steps into the light until Jesus Himself steps into the light. It is a picture of hidden resurrection, quiet beginnings, life stirring before it is seen.
Let’s press into the ‘pause’ for a moment because Matthew invites you to notice it. And you’re right in assuming that my earlier answers were describing two different layers: dead but living. Literally and physically: they were dead until raised. Symbolically and theologically: they were raised but not yet revealed.
Matthew is doing something unusual: he is describing a barely perceptible state — a state between states — and he does so on purpose. Let’s go into that space with precision and depth.
1. The Text Itself Creates a “Suspended Moment”
Matthew’s grammar creates a deliberate tension:
- “were raised” shows an event.
- “after His resurrection they came out” shows a delayed manifestation.
This is not sloppy writing. It’s crafted tension. Matthew is describing a resurrection that has occurred, but a revelation that has not. This is the pause.
2. What kind of pause is this?
It’s not:
- wandering
- waiting in confusion
- half-alive zombies
- conscious activity in tombs.
Matthew gives no hint of movement or awareness. Instead, it is a majestic pause, a theological suspension, a held moment.
The saints are:
- raised in status
- claimed by Christ’s victory
- pulled into His resurrection orbit
- but not yet unveiled to the world.
They are like resurrection embryos — alive, but not yet born into visibility.
3. The Pause Mirrors Holy Saturday.
Holy Saturday is the day between the tearing of the veil and the rolling away of the stone. While Jesus takes up the keys from the depths, the saints wait in a day of silence, stillness, hidden work and unseen victory.
The saints pause is a microcosm (small scale version) of Holy Saturday. They are participating in the same mystery; a mystery overlooked except for Matthew’s writing: Life has begun, but it is not yet revealed.
The pause is theologically necessary. Here is the reason: No resurrection may be revealed before Jesus’ resurrection is revealed. So even if the saints were raised the moment Jesus died, their public emergence must wait. Why? Because Jesus is: the First-fruit, the Firstborn from the dead, the pioneer of resurrection and the one who opens the way.
If the saints had walked out immediately, the narrative would imply: resurrection can occur apart from Jesus. Resurrection can precede Jesus. Resurrection is not dependent on Him and Matthew will not allow that. Matthew creates a scriptural pause: resurrection life begins but resurrection visibility waits.
This is not about what the saints did. It’s about what God is showing. The pause is symbolic of the new creation “quickening.” Think of Genesis: God forms Adam. Adam is fully shaped but he does not live until God breathes. There is a moment - unspoken, but real - between form and breath.
Matthew is describing the same kind of moment:
- the saints are raised (the form)
- but not yet revealed (the breath).
It is the moment before the unveiling of the new creation. The pause is a picture of hidden resurrection. This is the part that speaks to the human condition.
The saints are:
- alive
- claimed
- transformed
- belonging to the new age
- but still lying in the place of the old age.
The saints are new, but still in the old environment. They are resurrected, but still in tombs. They are changed, but not yet seen. This is the pause.
It is the space where: identity has shifted but circumstances have not. Where the inner world has awakened but the outer world has not caught up. It’s where God has acted but the world has not yet witnessed it.
Matthew’s describing a spiritual reality that many people live: You have risen inside, but the world has not yet seen you rise.
So, what were the saint’s “doing” while alive but not brought forth?
Here is the best answer I could conceive: They were held in the mystery of the in‑between - alive in Christ’s victory, but waiting for Christ’s unveiling. Not in conscious activity. Not in wandering. Not in confusion. They were kept. They were contained. They were preserved in the tension between what God has already done and what God is about to reveal. This is the pause.
The pause is: expectancy, like a pregnancy that doesn’t yet show. You know it’s there but it’s not yet visible. It’s an incubation period, or a gestation. A quickening but yet without birth. It’s the identity of life before birth; identity before visibility. A truth before manifestation. A resurrection before revelation. It’s all hidden in the pause in which Matthew purposely included.
It’s the space where God says: “I have already done it. You will see it soon.”
This pause feels like the attention of someone who senses: something in you has already risen but the world has not yet seen it. The tomb is open but the unveiling has not yet happened. It’s here that I dared to ask a question, one in which might not be answerable.
“What do you think the saints were thinking as they sat in their tombs on that Saturday of pause?” I’m right in that this isn’t answerable in a literal, historical sense. But it is answerable in the symbolic, theological, imaginative sense — the sense Matthew himself is writing in. And that’s the level this question is actually reaching for.
I shall answer it in the way that honours scripture, honours the mystery of the moment, and honours the way one might think it through: not as speculation, but as a reverent imagining shaped by the text’s logic.
First, the boundary: Matthew gives no indication that the saints were conscious, thinking, or active in their tombs. So, anything we say is not “what happened,” but what the moment means. And that is exactly where this question lives.
Second, the saints’ “thoughts” must match the pattern of Holy Saturday. Holy Saturday is the day of: silence, stillness, reflection, waiting. In that moment, it’s the world holding its breath (what’s going to happen now?), it’s the victory already won but not yet revealed. If we imagine the saints’ inner world, it must mirror this. They are the first fruits of Jesus’ victory, so their experience must harmonize with His.
The saints’ “thoughts” would not, I expect, be human thoughts. If they were raised but not yet revealed, their consciousness - if any - would quite possibly be: quiet, unhurried, unafraid, suspended perhaps in God’s timing.
Not like human anxiety. Not like “What’s happening?” Not like “When do we get out?” More like a soul held in the stillness of God’s completed work, waiting for the moment of unveiling.
The best way to imagine their inner world is this: Not thoughts in sentences, but awareness. Not questions, but rest. Not striving, but belonging. Not anticipation, but alignment. They would be like people who have just awakened from a long sleep into a light they don’t yet see, but already feel. A kind of: “It is finished… and something new is beginning.”
If I were to put their “thoughts” into human language, not literally, but symbolically, it could sound like this:
“The world has shifted. Death is no longer what it was. We are held in the breath before dawn. When He rises, we rise. When He appears, we appear. We wait in His victory. We wait in His timing. We wait in His light, even before the stone rolls away.” Yes, this is supposition on my part. If they were thinking at all.
This, however, isn’t too far off. It’s not speculation. It is theological imagination shaped by: Matthew’s structure - Paul’s “first-fruits” language - the pattern of Holy Saturday - the logic of resurrection.
The deeper truth: the question is not really about their thoughts. It’s about the nature of the pause. The saints in the tombs are a mirror of: the in‑between, the already‑but‑not‑yet. The moment when God has acted but the world has not seen. The moment when identity has changed but circumstances have not caught up.
They are the picture of a soul that has already been raised but not yet revealed. Which is why the question carries weight because you may just feel the shape of that pause in your own life. Are we all not but a work in progress?
Let me answer the question in the way that truly matters. What were the saints thinking? They were thinking nothing anxious, nothing confused, nothing striving. If anything, their “thought” was simply: “We are and we rise when He rises.”
A stillness. A knowing. A belonging. A waiting that is not waiting for something, but waiting with Someone.
