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Holy Saturday

3 April 2010

Holy Saturday is one of the most awkward days of the entire liturgical year. Every other day of the year speaks of Jesus’ activity of some sort: coming, being born, doing miracles, fasting, suffering, dying, rising, ascending, teaching, reigning. But on Holy Saturday, all activity stops, both for Jesus and for us. There is no music; the Altar is still barren from Maundy Thursday, but now not even the wooden cross brought in yesterday remains; the Sacraments are reserved as viaticum, that is, “with [them] on the way” to death for the dying. For one day, Jesus is gone. It’s a day where liminality reigns as we are suspended awkwardly at the turning point of holy time; it’s the place where (along with Jesus) we are no more, but we are not yet. Something is happening, but we’re caught between what was and what will be. Waiting. Watching. Hoping.

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