Holy Saturday – the day of silence between ‘it is finished’ and Easter.  I’d rather skip the painful silence, but I’m glad that as a community, we don’t.  Tonight during our liturgy I read this passage from Nicholas Wolterstorff’s Lament for a Son

I am at an impasse, and you, O God, have brought me here. From my earliest days, I heard of you. From my earliest days, I believed in you. I shared in the life of your people: in their prayers, in their work, in their songs, in their listening for your speech and in their watching for your presence. For me your yoke was easy. On me your presence smiled.

Noon has darkened. As fast as she could say, “He’s dead,” the light dimmed. And where are you in this darkness? I learned to spy you in the light. Here in the darkness I cannot find you. If I had never looked for you, or looked but never found, I would not feel this pain of your absence. Or is it not your absence in which I dwell but your elusive troubling presence?

Will my eyes adjust to this darkness? Will I find you in the dark – not in the streaks of light which remain, but in the darkness? Has anyone ever found you there? Did they love what they saw? Did they see love? And are there songs for singing when the light has gone dim? The songs I learned were all of praise and thanksgiving and repentance. Or in the dark, is it best to wait in silence?

So we wait.


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