Holy Saturday

Well, today is Saturday.  Not just any Saturday.  It is Holy Saturday, the day that stands patiently between Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday...Since this blog is named after this particular day it seemed only fitting to post...well...something today!  I've been thinking about a few things over the weekend....

I wonder what the disciples thought on that very first Saturday following the death of their friend and promised deliverer. They had sold out to this guy!  Left their families, lost their friends, to follow in the dust of this so-called rabbi only to find him hanging on the same oppressive wood lorded over them for centuries. All that remained was the stench of blood and an angry crowd.  Hope seemed lost.

Last night we participated in a Tenebrae, or Good Friday, service.  It included scripture, drama, and time for reflection as we traced the events leading up to Christ's death.  I've gone several years to this service and while it is not flashy it never fails to lead me to a place of reorienting my easily disoriented heart.

What struck me this time was the audience response.  The couple behind us throughout the evening critiqued the parts that were perhaps uncomfortable or boring....like someone in the crowd in Jesus's day, I would imagine. Discomfort voiced itself willingly,  "Good grief!  This is gruesome!  These guys are masochists!" (I doubt they meant "masochist" but...?)  Near the end of the evening, as Christ is hanging on the cross, again I heard from behind me, "And you wanted to come to this?"  To which her companion just sighed and shrugged.  Still others, clearly uncomfortable, waived their hands in front of them as the aired filled with a small amount of mist/fog.

Then this morning I found myself waiting in line at the store getting similarly impatient as I stood in line to purchase a shirt that would color coordinate with my outfit.  I waited for what seemed an eternity ...it was actually less than 5 minutes.  Still, I stood there thinking to myself, "Did they not KNOW it was Easter weekend?  Did they not CONSIDER additional staffing for a day like today?"

Isn't it strange how the slightest bit of discomfort can cause such an indignant response?

I wonder if we really WANT the crucified Christ?  More often it seems easier to gaze into an Easter story that includes special baskets and colored eggs and a good resurrection song at the end.  We want Sunday but (dare I say) maybe not Friday.  And without Friday I guess there is no "In-between-Saturday"...Just Sunday.  Hmmm...how can any resurrection happen without something first being dead?  The very notion defies logic, right? What is a story without a beginning, middle, and end? And how does change find it's way onto the pages without the "middle"...the Saturday?

So Jesus told the disciples to "take up their cross and follow [him]"...Before he hung on one himself, by the way...

Take up my cross?  Will that tarnish my outfit? And exactly how long are we talking?...More than five minutes?  Often we DON'T want to come to the "cross" because it is far too inwardly disruptive.

I guess what I am thinking is this:  Yes it was gruesome when the Lamb of God took on the sins of the world.  It was ugly (and not because his sandals did not coordinate with his robe), redemption was horrific and painstakingly accomplished.  But the nails that pierced Christ's hand have forever opened the door to HOPE. A sword pierced the heart of God so that love could pierce the heart of me.

So this is Holy Saturday.  The big fat, gruesomely long, "wait-day".  I am discovering the understated holiness of Saturday - that sacred "middle"- as it moves me from death to life... This is the day we are invited to sit still at know that HE indeed is God...even when it is uncomfortable and inconvenient, even when it is gruesomely painful; trusting that in the pause, in the burial of all we hold dear, the seed bed is laid for his life to spring forth.

 Maybe you are reading this, and you are less concerned with things like your outfit tomorrow because life isn't that easy. So you think, BLAHHH!  Maybe your own story of loss is far too great.  Or maybe, like the disciples, in your own way you've "sold out" to Him only to find a sense of disappointment and abandonment in return and hope seems lost.  But it's SATURDAY, so wait.  Let the cross lift your head to see redemption's story written in the pain. Hold on for Sunday's dawn....I'm not gonna lie your Sunday may not dawn tomorrow. ...But it WILL DAWN!  Let Saturday finish it's work...every hour of it.  Dawn breaks upon night's darkest hour.