Today is Holy Saturday, I generally try to let the silence of this day settle in. We wait on this day. It is the last day of the Lenten fast. Any who have been fasting are probably weary of it by now. We have come to the end.
There is a deathly silence to this day. Silence and listening are more than not using words.
Today, many people are running about their business with no attention to Jesus Christ in the tomb. Many Christian traditions do nothing with this day.
The second reading for Vigils in the Benedictine prayer is an ancient sermon by an anonymous preacher (well we apparently don’t know who preached it.) This preacher reminds us that the day Jesus was in the tomb is the sabbath. Death has many meanings, it also means rest. The body of Jesus of Nazareth rests in the grave on the Sabbath.
Silence can also be restful. Grief, loss, death, rest, silence. Are we listening?
A friend points out how we often struggle to keep these three days together, this the boundary between Lent and Easter. Easter can overwhelm us into a search for certainty.
Easter is about triumph, and we can forget the means of that triumph. “By Death Christ beat down Death.” The way of the Cross is the path of Resurrection.
So thanks to the Anglobaptist. On this Holy Saturday I’m wondering if the ways in which we seek justice and righteousness and the conflicts surrounding that search are so rancorous among and between us Christians because of our forgetfulness, that is a misunderstanding, of Resurrection.
We think Resurrection is about certainties or we think it’s about metaphor and principles. We forget that our sense of certainty and rectitude isn’t the point.
Even after the Resurrection the silence of the tomb speaks to us. It should in the least remind us that, whatever our positions, whatever our beliefs about justice and righteousness, God come in human form, and who then dies is simply unsettling. Resurrection doesn’t settle anything, but it unsettles everything. The wisdom to know what to do after the displacement of Resurrection, comes from a bowl towel and feet, and the silence of the tomb.