Reflections on Holy Saturday
It's okay not to know, my Soul Shelter friends...
Today is “Holy Saturday”, often billed as a time of silence with Jesus resting peacefully in a tomb prior to Easter. I think there's more to it than that. Here’s what I see: The narrative has Jesus coming into the city of Jerusalem, hailed as King (with much hope and expectation from Jews wanting to get out from under oppressive Roman rule), and within the week, he was arrested and brutally executed like any other criminal. This was probably not at all what his family, friends and followers had in mind (“Wait. He was supposed to be our king. Now what?”). Can you imagine what they might have been going through?
Maybe you can...there are many of these kinds of the-floor-just-dropped-out moments in an emotionally abusive relationship. Somewhere in our core, we know this is NOT how it is supposed to be, and it's easy to get lost in a chaos of emotion wondering what to make of it all. There are some parallels here.
What happens in us when our own future takes a sudden unexpected turn in a really bad direction? How do we make sense of it all? Is that even possible? Holy Saturday embodies this tension, and invites us to hold it as well. Can we let the tug-of-war between fear and hope - the struggle of not knowing - be as it is? It’s tempting to want to sanitize it, wrap it up with a neat bow, hide the mess and rush on with our lives, but what if we resisted doing that, just for today?
There can be something rich and worthwhile about sitting in discomfort and not knowing. It is brave, gut-wrenching work. It can be hard to look at what really is. I get it. Yet some things can only be discovered if we wait. If we stay. If we allow all that is Mystery into this particular kind of space to create something new, something better, something of life that's been so absent in us. Will we?
Take courage, friends. It will not always be this way. It will not always be Holy Saturday. The dust will settle, the air will clear and you will be able to see your way forward. And it may not look at all like what you expected. Be open. And wise, of course.
You are not alone,
Wendy
24/7 U.S National Domestic Violence Hotline, voice: 800-799-7233, text: “START” to 88788