59 Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a long sheet of clean linen cloth. 60 He placed it in his own new tomb, which had been carved out of the rock. Then he rolled a great stone across the entrance and left. 61 Both Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting across from the tomb and watching.
Matthew 27:59-61
Dear God, as I sit here on this Saturday morning before Easter, the word “hopeless” comes to mind. There are things in my life that bring me sorrow about which I feel hopeless. I’m tired. I’m defeated. I’ve tried multiple times and in multiple ways to remedy the sorrowful situation, but nothing seems to work. It feels hopeless.
I would imagine that is how Joseph and Nicodemus were feeling as they handled Jesus’s body that Friday night, making themselves unclean for the Passover. I would imagine that’s how the Marys and all of Jesus’s other followers/believers, whether close to him or believing in him from a distance, were feeling that Friday evening and Saturday. Hopeless. Asking themselves, “What does this mean? Where do we go from here?” while dealing with their simple grief of losing someone they loved so brutally. Rome was still in charge. Pilate had the power to kill him. Caiaphas and his crew had won. What now?
In today’s entry into Restore: A Guided Lent Journal for Prayer and Meditation, Sister Miriam…well, she says this:
An ancient homily on Holy Saturday captures it best: “What is happening? Today there is a great silence over the earth, a great silence, and stillness, a great silence because the King sleeps; the earth was in terror and was still, because God slept in the flesh and raised up those who were sleeping from the ages. God has died in the flesh, and the underworld has trembled…Truly he goes to seek out our first parent like a lost sheep; he wishes to visit those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. He goes to free the prisoner Adam and his fellow prisoner Eve from her pains, he who is God, and Adam’s son. The Lord goes in to them holding his victorious weapon, his Cross. When Adam, the first created man, sees him, he strikes his breast in terror and calls out to all: ‘My Lord be with you all.’ And Christ in reply says to Adam: ‘And with your spirit.’ And grasping his hand he raises him up, saying, ‘Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light.'”
Father, I think I want to sit in this silence today. As I’ve been praying, I’ve decided to not “play” anything today. No music. No podcasts. No YouTube videos or sports. I think I want this to be a real day of silence for me. I want to be alone with the Holy Spirit and my thoughts. I want to commune with you without distraction. I want to learn to love you just a little better today. And I want to learn to be at peace in the silence of my sorrow. The silence of my hopelessness. But I have an advantage on Joseph, Nicodemus, the Marys, and all the others. I know what’s about to happen tomorrow, and it gives me hope too.
I pray all of this in Jesus and with your Holy Spirit,
Amen
