Shouts of “He is risen” punctuate my social media timeline: it is Easter Sunday and I have just led an interactive, engaging service to a packed church, followed by engaging conversations, coffee, and cake. All in all, a good day, by ministerial standards. But there is something amiss: my usual excitement over Easter Day seemed to have eluded me. As I reflect on this I realise that I am stuck on Holy Saturday, that in-between stage of uncertainty and hopelessness. My thoughts have been on how the disciples would have felt the day after the death of their friend, on their pain and fear as they try to come to grips with the events of the day before. I could pretend that my thoughts are due to some deep theological reflection only, but the truth is, I too , feel stuck on the “aftermath”, and perhaps, for the first time, I feel the grief of the disciples.
As Christians we tend to look toward Easter with the benefit of knowing how the story ends and some of us may even choose to ignore the events of Good Friday, preferring instead to herald those around us with “Sunday’s coming”! And rightly so, because it is that hope of a resurrection that seals our faith and propels us into a life of expectancy and freedom. However, the problem with moving on too quickly to resurrection is that it could lead to not fully appreciating what it is we are being resurrected from, while also denying the anguish of those around us who might still be waiting for their Easter day to arrive.
For me, life at the moment is one of Holy Saturday. Unlike the disciples, I am looking forward to Resurrection because I know better, but waiting is hard and painful. The uncertainty of not knowing what will be makes it difficult to embrace any kind of resurrection, and like the disciples, I want to hide away until it all blows over. That in-between stage brings more questions than answers and can leave one feeling like hope is completely out of reach, and that the least one can look forward to is some kind of reprieve from the angst and turmoil. Sounds depressing, doesn’t it? And therein lies the temptation: to make like the disciples and lock ourselves in a room. The truth is, locking ourselves away does not make the pain of waiting any less, neither does it bring forward a resurrection. So what is left to do?
Firstly, embrace the Holy Saturday in your life – go through it gently, allowing yourself to feel the varying emotions that will undoubtedly assault (sometimes) your senses, Secondly, celebrate the little moments of hope that will occasionally make an appearance. There is something quite profound about living in the moment: allowing oneself to soak in every aspect of life in such a way so as to appreciate the ebbs and flows. Lastly, hold on to the promise of resurrection. For me, the greatest thing about the Easter story is the promise of hope. I love the fact that out of something so horrid and unexpected comes the promise of life. In the midst of my waiting; in my moments of doubt and uncertainty; when I am feeling overwhelmed by life’s events, I find glimmers of opportunity for hope, not because I can see any, but because I know that the One in whom I trust has been where I am; feeling grief, alone, betrayed, abandoned, and his resurrection power means that I will not be in this place forever, even though it feels like it.
So if you find yourself struggling to echo choruses of “He is Risen”, take courage, you are not alone; just hold on until you experience your own resurrection. I know I am ….
islandgirlinthewest 