Holy Saturday

Holy Saturday.

It does not always feel so holy.

Jesus, yes still set apart…but in a tomb. The disciples – suffocated with grief from the day before.  The State – sated with its violence.  The world – left wandering, picking up the pieces, and looking for the leader of its next mob.

It’s hard for many to imagine what that day was like.  We remember history through the lens of the resurrection – an event which had yet to chan

ge the history of the universe the day after the crucifixion.  This is not a privilege or a bias, but a participation in the reality we are blessed to receive.  We should remember it this way. Loves open arms swallowed death and offered eternal life for all and any who choose to follow the Way of the crucified carpenter.  In no way do I ever want any to forget the empty tomb, to re-enter a world wA rusty pile of Chains, | Flickr - Photo Sharing!here Jesus did not seem victorious.

Still, the chains of such a dark day clank through the centuries to today. Billions have heard of the name of Jesus.  Still, many do not believe.  For them, Jesus remains in the tomb.  Or rather, his remains were once in a tomb if such a person could ever be believed in.   Sin still reigns.   Good is invented by the tribe and speaks the language of violence to overcome evil. One might as well survive the agony.  They have not heard nor seen the power of the risen Lord and the Holy Spirit.  The Messiah remains a myth. 

The good news of Sunday morning has not landed.  People desire illusions more than reality.  Pain and longing for a broken world – sated by
 
needles and drink,
 
power and money, 
 

sex and violence, 

security and comfort,

convenience and control, 

rage and entertainment, 

distraction and destruction, 

rebellion and order, 

religion and tribe, 

prestige and pride –

self-imposed holy Saturday shackles suffocating us, stifling us, sending us downstream away from the eternal springs of Sunday’s salvation;

 
damned deeds of deadening desires gathering the darkness, dimming, disregarding a building, devastating deluge devoid of deeper deliverance –
 
 
the weight of the waves winding and working until washing out in waterfalls of waste wrecking us, whisking us all away from a world transformed.  
 

 

A world already transformed in the good news of the empty tomb, needing only its inhabitants to turn towards the dawn of the new beginning awaiting at the empty tomb.

 

Love still reigns in Jesus even if the world still does not recognize the uncoercive power of the empty tomb.

 

As we wait for that final day when the holy Saturdays of this world retreat from the dawn of the second coming, may those who know the joy of the resurrection be a light for those who remain in the darkness.

 

Look for the light tomorrow, He is risen!


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