Friday--the Crucifixion, the Temple veil ripping, the suddenly dark sky--and Sunday--the best brought out of evil and defeat, a tomb that stays empty, broken hearts that begin to be filled with joy and astonishment as real as bread. The texts testify to this much, and more, but of Saturday not a word--not a word about the Reality that holds reality in place.
One hint: the Apostles' Creed has him going down and harrowing hell. First preconceptions include dark tones, lugubrious and seemly processions that mimic joy, the formal transfer of power from a despotic regime to the new authority of love which offers freedom in a never-ending moment. We can't "know" the way we know calculus or botany, but we do know from the mystery of our own Saturdays, which have opened into graced newness. That's knowing enough.
1 comment:
Waiting - and Holy Saturday is a day of waiting for me - is hard. I want things to happen right away when I'm looking forward to them as I am to Easter.
Maybe that's why I always join the Easter Vigil work party at church - even this year when I could not do as much. Occupying my brain and my hands with the technical aspects of preparation and decorating keep me from getting waylaid by the interior work that might be lurking if I simply stopped "doing."
Post a Comment