Hear my prayer, O LORD, and give ear unto my cry; hold not thy peace at my tears: for I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were. (Psalm 39)
Saturday, a day of limbo. With the strange exhilaration of the crucifixion gone, we now wait for something. But what? We sense no presence.
In this vacuum there is only confusion. Our minds are numb and our eyes sting from the spectacle, there is nothing else.
We receive no understanding about all this. Jesus cried out seemingly forsaken, confused, and was delivered unto the deep and dark-knowing absence.
…Perhaps this day, between the shock of Good Friday and Easter Sunday, like no other day, we might sense the reality of our fractured-selves. We are nomads, wonderers, strangers. Too often strangers to each other, and strangers to ourselves.
…I have lived in this twilight for too long. I want to break out this Easter. I want to feel at home in my world and in my skin. I want Easter to firmly plant me in the world. I no longer want to be an alien, I want to be a resident. The world decays, I decay. This is real but it isn’t all there is. The world will be new, one Easter day, and so will I. This is real.