48And when all the crowds who had gathered there for this spectacle saw what had taken place, they returned home, beating their breasts. 49But all his acquaintances, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.
What do we do with this day, this day after, this day before, this time between? What do we do when our foundations have been shaken to their core and we wander, alone? What do we do when we stand at a distance and can do nothing to fix it or hurry the healing along? This IS the deepest part of the wilderness. We begin to wander again but this time, we are alone. This time we wander in grief and despair. The darkness overcomes us.
Have you noticed that all of the Gospels after the frantic accounts of the Crucifixion fall silent on this day? They all go from some rendition of laying Jesus in the tomb to some version of “after the Sabbath”. There was, you see, nothing more to say about what had happened and the story had to stop and wait for itself to begin again. You see, this IS the Sabbath, the time between work and work, the time between conversations, the time between life and life. This IS the time to be silent, to sit in the deep wilderness and wait, wait again for life to dawn.
The truth is, there IS nothing to do with this day. See, this day is not ours. We’re so accustomed to days revolving around our lives that we have forgotten how to wait, how to just be. Notice that tomorrow morning the Scripture will not give us the account of the Resurrection. It will instead tell us the story of the revelation of what has happened, the finding of the empty tomb. We were not there for the Resurrection. While we were grieving and wondering and trying to find our way in this new wilderness, God was re-creating in the darkness. God seems to be drawn to the darkness, to the place where the Light most needs to be.
So, in this darkness, in this silence, know that you are not alone. Know that God is re-creating everything even now. Know that this is the time to just be still, to just be still and know.
My ego is like a fortress. I have built its walls stone by stone to hold out the invasion of the love of God. But I have stayed here long enough. There is light over the barriers. O my God…I let go of the past. I withdraw my grasping hand from the future. And in the great silence of this moment, I alertly rest my soul. (Howard Thurman)
FOR TODAY: It is finished. Just be still. Just be still and know.
Grace and Peace,