Looking forward today to Holy Week, Saturday stands out as the most mysterious, underrated, interesting day of the week. Most would probably rate it as the least of the days of the Triduum: Thursday we have the Eucharist, priesthood, and the washing of the feet; Friday the passion and death of our Lord; Saturday is nothing, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!
That is what makes it so distinctive. The only day of the liturgical year when there is nothing: no mass, no sacraments, no public rituals. The tabernacle itself is empty: even the ever-present Eucharistic Christ is absent. From sunset Friday to sunset Saturday: Nothing at all.
Significantly, it is the seventh day, the Sabbath. In the passion accounts, after Jesus burial, the women go home to practice Sabbath rest. I find this comforting. They have just been engaged by the defining tragedy of human history; but they still maintain their religious custom. Here we see stability, habit, steadfastness. The very death of God does not disrupt this routine, established by God at creation.
The Sabbath is rest. Peace. Recall of paradise. Anticipation of heaven. Joy. Freedom from work, stress, suffering, death, guilt, shame, sin, conflict, separation, fear and anxiety.
Jesus work is done. His earthly life as a distinct man is over. His mission on earth accomplished. He is not here.
He has not yet resurrected. Not yet appeared for 40 days. Not yet ascended. Not yet sent the Holy Spirit. Not yet reigned, until the end of time, over his Church from heaven, through the Holy Spirit indwelling his body, his bride, the Church.
This day is the defining Caesura of time, of history, of creation. The defining Break, Rupture, Discontinuity. The Great Pause. Everything stops. The old order is no more. The new order has not begun. Time, history, the drama of creation pauses. Creation takes a huge breath, looking back, suspended above time, waiting.
We see two Times; two Histories. Pre is everything before Sundown Friday. Post is everything after Sundown Saturday. That one day, Saturday, is not in history, neither pre nor post. It is suspended, transcendent, a moment of Eternity.
Before Sundown Friday, all of Creation was yearning for the coming of the Messiah. After Sundown Saturday, all of Redeemed Creation is exulting in the accomplished work of Christ; and yearning for its consummation in the Parousia. Upon waking Sunday morning, all of Creation is in the end times.
The apostles and disciples are in hiding, in shock, in despair. Abandoned. Comforted only by their camaraderie in grief.
Mary remains in the deep quiet grief of the Pieta. But she is at rest. A rest above all strife, effort, agency. She is at the same time in deep Joy. In this day Faith, Hope and Love reach their highest pinnacle. She knows. She does not need an appearance. She knows...naturally, maternally, supernaturally, miraculously...that her Son lives, eternally, humanly, in the Trinity.
This one day we suspend all else. We join Mary in the Silence of Faith-Hope-Love. We recall in quiet the graces of our personal and communal histories. We wait. We rest.
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