Two years ago I initiated a meditation for the holy three days before Easter Sunday referred to as the Pascal Tridium. Each year I would highlight one of the three days. I started with Holy Thursday, and last year was Good Friday. This year I will offer a meditation on Holy Saturday.
There is no Mass celebrated on Holy Saturday, nor as in Good Friday an opportunity for a recital of the Passion and Adoration of the Wood of the Cross. There are no readings nor homilies.
Perhaps the best place to start for Holy Saturday is at the thirteenth
and fourteenth stations of the Stations of the Cross: Jesus taken down from the
cross and placed in a tomb.
This comes from the last paragraph of the nineteenth chapter of John’s
Gospel.
After
this, Joseph of Arimathea,
secretly
a disciple of Jesus for fear of the Jews,
asked
Pilate if he could remove the body of Jesus.
And
Pilate permitted it.
So
he came and took his body.
Nicodemus,
the one who had first come to him at night,
also
came bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes
weighing
about one hundred pounds.
They
took the body of Jesus
and
bound it with burial cloths along with the spices,
according
to the Jewish burial custom.
Now
in the place where he had been crucified there was a garden, and in the garden
a new tomb, in which no one had yet been buried. So they laid Jesus there because of the Jewish
preparation day; for the tomb was close by.
~Jn 19:38-42
We adore you, O
Christ, and we praise you, because by your Holy Cross you have redeemed the
world.
The distinguishing feature
of Holy Saturday is silence and waiting.
There is no liturgy, no celebration, no homilies, no Eucharist. Jesus’s body is motionless, indeed, lifeless
in tomb while His soul travels down to the abode of the dead to raise up all
the righteous dead.
Dominican Fr. Jonah
Teller O.P. reflects on the wait.
Fr. Teller:
God sleeps the sleep of death but only for a time. Hope in him, hope in Christ. So what do we do on this day, this strange day when the stone is still rolled in front of the tomb and we can't see Jesus? What do we do? I think we just wait. We just wait there close to Jesus. He's still there. And we hope. And hope is for what you can't see. But the one who has promised is trustworthy and he will do it. And so whatever it is that we're waiting for, whatever it is we're hoping for, whatever it is we're suffering, any stone rolled in front of any tomb in our lives, any death that we fear, any suffering we experience, we can know confidently that Jesus Christ has already stepped into the middle of it, taken it upon himself, and conquered it. And we can hope that he will share the victory over it with us. All we have to do is wait.
The Office of Readings
of the Liturgy of the Hours has a reading attributed to an ancient unknown
writer but sometimes, though questionably, attributed to St. Melito of Sardis. It is sometimes referred to as “An Ancient
Homily on Holy Saturday.” Whoever wrote
it, it was probably written during the second century.
Something strange is happening—there is a great silence on earth today,
a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King
is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the
flesh and he has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began. God
has died in the flesh and hell trembles with fear.
He has gone to search for our first parent, as for a lost sheep. Greatly
desiring to visit those who live in darkness and in the shadow of death, he has
gone to free from sorrow the captives Adam and Eve, he who is both God and the
son of Eve. The Lord approached them bearing the cross, the weapon that had won
him the victory. At the sight of him Adam, the first man he had created, struck
his breast in terror and cried out to everyone: “My Lord be with you all.”
Christ answered him: “And with your spirit.” He took him by the hand and raised
him up, saying: “Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give
you light.”
I am your God, who for your sake have become your son. Out of love for
you and for your descendants I now by my own authority command all who are held
in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who
are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you
to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the
dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, let us
leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you; together we form only one
person and we cannot be separated.
For your sake I, your God, became your son; I, the Lord, took the form
of a slave; I, whose home is above the heavens, descended to the earth and
beneath the earth. For your sake, for the sake of man, I became like a man
without help, free among the dead. For the sake of you, who left a garden, I
was betrayed to the Jews in a garden, and I was crucified in a garden.
See on my face the spittle I received in order to restore to you the
life I once breathed into you. See there the marks of the blows I received in
order to refashion your warped nature in my image. On my back see the marks of
the scourging I endured to remove the burden of sin that weighs upon your back.
See my hands, nailed firmly to a tree, for you who once wickedly stretched out
your hand to a tree.
I slept on the cross and a sword pierced my side for you who slept in
paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side has healed the pain in
yours. My sleep will rouse you from your sleep in hell. The sword that pierced
me has sheathed the sword that was turned against you.
Rise, let us leave this place. The enemy led you out of the earthly paradise. I will not restore you to that paradise, but I will enthrone you in heaven. I forbade you the tree that was only a symbol of life, but see, I who am life itself am now one with you. I appointed cherubim to guard you as slaves are guarded, but now I make them worship you as God. The throne formed by cherubim awaits you, its bearers swift and eager. The bridal chamber is adorned, the banquet is ready, the eternal dwelling places are prepared, the treasure houses of all good things lie open. The kingdom of heaven has been prepared for you from all eternity.
“I order you, O
sleeper, to awake.” “My side has healed
the pain in yours.” I find that
beautiful. You can hear it being read
along with some gorgeous imagery from this video produced by St. Catherine Labouré Church in Wheaton,
Maryland.
Sunday Meditation: "They took the body of Jesus and
bound it with burial cloths along with the spices, according to the Jewish
burial custom. Now in the place where he
had been crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb…"
Any hymn on such a solemn day must be acapella. Appropriate I think would be “Go to Dark Gethsemane”
here performed by the Lux Choral Society.
Go to dark
Gethsemane,
Ye who feel the
tempter's pow'r;
Your Redeemer's
conflict see;
Watch with Him one
bitter hour;
Turn not from His
griefs away;
Learn of Jesus Christ
to pray.
Follow to the
judgment hall;
View the Lord of life
arraigned;
O the worm-wood and
the gall!
O the pangs His soul
sustained!
Shun not suff'ring,
shame, or loss;
Learn of Him to bear
the cross.
Calv'ry's mournful
mountain climb;
There, adoring at His
feet,
Mark the miracle of
time,
God's own sacrifice
complete:
""It is
finished!"" Hear Him cry;
Learn of Jesus Christ
to die;
Blessed Savior, now
in love
Send thy Spirit from
above;
Come and dwell with
us, we pray;
Amen.
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