The stone is set. My blood feels stone cold. Does the stone rule the Story? It’s “as quiet as midnight”, yet I cannot hear my loved ones calling me. Where do I go from here? Everywhere is nowhere. The anguish and the agony are palpable in my chest and in the ground beneath my feet. The death of Jesus is killing me, but it is not killing my love for Jesus. My soul is parched from sobs as the waters stilled at that dark hour yesterday. I stand and then drop to my knees at the image of my face in the motionless pool. For just a moment, I see Jesus in my reflection. He changed me! The stories, the healings, the feasts, the acts of forgiveness, the piercing death cry at the end — all of these encounters chiseled away at what I thought I knew. Yes, my Jesus is dead, but for the life of me I can only cry out what Job realized: “For I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last He will stand upon the earth.”
Prayer: Lord, this Holy Saturday is the quietest day of the Christian calendar. In this disquieting stillness, may we remember that you called us friends and that you commanded us to love one another. In such company, we wait. Help us keep watch, O Lord of the Universe. Amen.
Thought for the Day: “Even in your despair, observe the rituals. Pray your prayers. However hollow and unsatisfying they may feel, God can fill them. God is God, who made the world from nothing — and God as God can still astonish you…” – Walt Wangerin, Jr.