Today is Holy Saturday. I find today one of the most uncomfortable or awkward days in terms of feasts and commemorations of the Church. From Palm Sunday to Good Friday, we know what we’re about. The Triumphal Entry. Christ clearing the Temple. Christ on the Mount of Olives and disputing with opponents in the Temple. There’s nothing mentioned in Scripture for Wednesday — so we do Tenebrae to make up for it. Then comes the Last Supper and the Betrayal. And, of course, Good Friday.
After Good Friday, Easter Sunday — Resurrection, glory. Loosening our throats and tongues to shout, ‘Allelu–‘ you know the rest, ja?
Today the Disciples (soon to be Apostles, if they only knew!) are in hiding. The women — His Mother, Mary Magdalene, Salome, et aliae — are mourning His death.
On Holy Saturday, God’s body is lying dead in a tomb.
All there is to do is wait.
We aren’t good at that in our culture. I’m not that good at it, myself. I’d like Easter Sunday now, thank you very much.
But I think this awkwardness, this discomfort, this twitching while we wait is good.
It will make tomorrow morning, bleary-eyed but excited at 5:30 AM, that much more exciting.
The tension of today increases the release of tomorrow as we all respond to, ‘Christ is–‘ well, you know.
But not yet. For now, waiting. The Body of Our Lord in the Tomb.