Saturday, March 22, 2008
From AscensionNYC
Holy Saturday
by Stephen Hagerty
Psalm 130 or 31:1-5
Job 14:1-14
1 Peter 4:1-8
Matthew 27:57-66 or John 19:38-42
If you are a New Yorker, you may have had this experience. While riding the subway through a tunnel, the subway car suddenly stops midway and is stalled. There is complete darkness, a hurried announcement from the MTA, and then silence. It doesn't normally last long, but you notice very quickly that the silence is because no one is talking and that the wait is very uncomfortable — almost frightening. After a few minutes, your mind starts to wonder about whether you will remain there. I think this gives us a sense of the sacred unease of Holy Saturday.
The gospel of Matthew is filled with a plethora of details about Jesus' death. Joseph of Arimathea asks Pilate for Jesus' body. His request granted, Joseph "took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn in the rock"(Matthew 27:59-60). Notice how suddenly Jesus becomes his body, becomes an "it." But notice also the care taken with this body and the very touching remembering of Mary Magdalene and the other Mary "sitting opposite the tomb" (Matthew 27:61), not bearing to be separated from Jesus.
Now think of the last time you went to a wake, particularly if there was an open casket. You kneel in front of the casket to say a prayer, and, if you are like me, you stare a bit at the body. If it is someone you knew, you may wonder if they look like they did. These moments also make me wonder what it means to be dead. What if the departed were to suddenly open their eyes or exhale a breath? It can be a surreal experience to actual see a dead person, particularly if we don't very often.
Now imagine seeing the dead body of Jesus. Wouldn't this be overwhelming and shattering, especially if you had been in his close circle of friends, seen the energy of his life, and had yet to experience his resurrection?
Holy Saturday, this day of silence and darkness, asks something of us: we are simply to wait opposite the tomb of Jesus. No more and no less.
Psalm 130 or 31:1-5
Job 14:1-14
1 Peter 4:1-8
Matthew 27:57-66 or John 19:38-42
If you are a New Yorker, you may have had this experience. While riding the subway through a tunnel, the subway car suddenly stops midway and is stalled. There is complete darkness, a hurried announcement from the MTA, and then silence. It doesn't normally last long, but you notice very quickly that the silence is because no one is talking and that the wait is very uncomfortable — almost frightening. After a few minutes, your mind starts to wonder about whether you will remain there. I think this gives us a sense of the sacred unease of Holy Saturday.
The gospel of Matthew is filled with a plethora of details about Jesus' death. Joseph of Arimathea asks Pilate for Jesus' body. His request granted, Joseph "took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn in the rock"(Matthew 27:59-60). Notice how suddenly Jesus becomes his body, becomes an "it." But notice also the care taken with this body and the very touching remembering of Mary Magdalene and the other Mary "sitting opposite the tomb" (Matthew 27:61), not bearing to be separated from Jesus.
Now think of the last time you went to a wake, particularly if there was an open casket. You kneel in front of the casket to say a prayer, and, if you are like me, you stare a bit at the body. If it is someone you knew, you may wonder if they look like they did. These moments also make me wonder what it means to be dead. What if the departed were to suddenly open their eyes or exhale a breath? It can be a surreal experience to actual see a dead person, particularly if we don't very often.
Now imagine seeing the dead body of Jesus. Wouldn't this be overwhelming and shattering, especially if you had been in his close circle of friends, seen the energy of his life, and had yet to experience his resurrection?
Holy Saturday, this day of silence and darkness, asks something of us: we are simply to wait opposite the tomb of Jesus. No more and no less.
