Today is a difficult day. Holy Saturday. A day of emptiness. A day of darkness. A day of silence.
I imagine that Saturday had to feel almost like a vacuum. Where there had been such chaos and noise with the shouts, whips, and the pounding of the nails, now there was nothing. I imagine that there were still birds singing, and I imagine their song was deafening as it stood in contrast to the silence of the tomb. I imagine Mary's tears had moved at this point from shaking sobs to the silence of steady streams. I imagine the disciples, huddled together, no one able to find words for the hell they were living through.
Jesus was dead. Jesus, their King and Teacher and Friend, was dead. Jesus, the man who had done and said so much to change the world, was dead. Jesus. Was. Dead. And he was buried in a grave.
It's not hard for me to imagine the despair of that Saturday. The reality is, a lot of us right now are living in a similar kind of Saturday. Light seems to be failing around us. Darkness seems to be winning out. And there is a silence around us that assaults the senses. There has been agony and anguish in plenty. Tears flow freely for many of us these days. Graves have been opened, filled, and closed again. Just like that first Holy Saturday.
That first Holy Saturday meant more than just an ordinary human being laid to rest. It meant more than just another human being placed in a tomb. It meant Faith itself had died, and was buried in a grave. It meant the Hope of the world had died, and was buried in a grave. It meant that Love, in all its simple splendor, had died, and was buried in a grave.
I am wondering, in the silence of this Holy Saturday in the year 2020, if there is more being laid in the tomb today. I am wondering if it isn't time to bury some things. What will you lay aside? I don't pretend to know what you need to bury today. I know that I need to put some anxieties and fears to rest. I know I need to lay down my desire for competency as if that will ascribe worth to me. I know I need to bury some things.
You see, I know these things need to be buried because that's the only way I'll see them redeemed. I know that without Christ being laid in that tomb, we wouldn't have seen the stone rolled away and him emerging from the grave. There can be no resurrection if there is not a death.
Jesus is in the grave today, but this is not the end of the story. Faith left the tomb behind. Hope sprang forth from the grave. And Love, in all its simple splendor, came alive again.
Jesus calls us to take up our own crosses, to die, and lay ourselves in the tomb. Knowing all the while that we will rise anew. What will you bury in the grave today?