Silent Saturday

 

[There is something about Holy Saturday that I like best of all in Holy Week. It seems the most mystical, in a way. Jesus is dead and not yet, as far as we know, resurrected. Holy Saturday is that pause between breaths, we have exhaled out, and not yet in again. We are seemingly on our own, all is silent and still, empty; everything has changed but we don’t yet understand exactly what has happened. Obviously God is not gone, if we know God as our very (and actual) life. Holy Saturday is perfect silence with what seems like no hope - speaking of hope in the way that T.S. Eliot does ("hope would be hope for the wrong thing"). Now in the silence and the darkness, only Faith will do.]