I wish the pain would go. It’s cold and we are all afraid and utterly lost without Jesus. I won’t say it out loud, but I am angry at him, and at myself. What’s the point of it all? Why doesn’t someone do something.
There is silence in the gospel about today. Aching hours of silence, and a sense that the world is cold and empty. The promise and parables, the warmth and love, the hope and excitement – they all hang in the air, echoing like accusations. Holy Saturday is never an easy day.
Perhaps it is a day for cleaning before the Sunday celebrations, prepping the lamb and hiding the Easter eggs; A day of displacement activities while we avoid thinking about the loss of Jesus from the world. It seems like nothing happens today, but this is wrong; Holy Saturday has everything to teach us about courage and faith.
The primitive church thought profoundly about Holy Saturday. They often described Jesus after death going down to the dead and finding solidarity with the dead. Many early Church fathers wrote that this was the purpose of the gap between Friday and Sunday – Jesus went to the dead so that the resurrection would heal even the dead, because only what Jesus had endured could be saved.
But there is another way to think about today. On the cross, Jesus’ work on earth had ended. He said so himself in the gospels: ‘When Jesus had received the wine, he said, “It is finished.”’ (John 19:30). It is complete. And he stops.
We don’t know what happens when Jesus died. There is nothing written about his activities and work then. There are no proclamations or liberating. Just silence and waiting.
And then God raised him from the dead. Not Jesus, but God.
God did the raising.
Jesus fell into the darkness and into silence, descending to the depths of human experience, into the origins of our fear of death and separation, our horror at condemnation. And God raised him out of it.
I suggest that it is down here that we can find the roots of true confidence and courage that holy week teaches us. That no matter how far we descend, how deep our despair, how horrifying our guilt, how complete our failure, God will raise us. We don’t have to do anything, proclaim anything, we just must believe and let God do the raising.
So curl up today, drawn your knees into your chest, and allow God to do the work of drawing you into deep faith and confidence. Wait on God. Accept that you are accepted. Try to believe in your lovableness.
Curl up in the mystery of what God is doing today. Let it conquest the anxiety. Allow this courage to sink deep into your roots.
I can’t move and am too afraid to go outside. Some of the women sneak out. Its easier for them to hide behind the busyness of death. They won’t be stopped by the power of the day. They are off to find the body
Prayer
In the silence, in the darkness, in the fear
God of Holy Saturday
Do the raising
Amen