Hope against all hope, when hope looks not only foolish but impossible: this is the call of Holy Saturday. It is an incredibly challenging call to us, to inhabit the tomb with the crucified, lifeless body of Jesus, where the power of death can be palpable, even suffocating. In the face of the death of the Lord, our lives stand still, numb, silent. It is as if the whole world has been sealed up in the tomb with him. Nothing more can be said, nothing can be done. Our future is now completely bound up with his future; our future now rests in him.
From all appearances, though, there is no future for him: this is the reality of Holy Saturday. Jesus has been executed. His life has ended shamefully, horrifically. He did not save himself from the cross or tomb; now he is beyond saving. What shall become of him? What can become of another dead would-be Messiah? What shall become of us who staked everything on him? What can become of us?
The only hope for him, for us, for the whole world, lying in the tomb is God: this is the revelation of Holy Saturday. The future of Jesus is for God to decide. In the realm of death, there is no hope, no security, no foothold, no ray of light; the death of Jesus erases even the tiniest sign upon which we may have based our faith. In the tomb, we are confronted with the sheer absurdity of hope, of waiting for God when all reasons for waiting, for hoping, have fallen short. In the dead body of Jesus, we come face-to-face with the disarming truth of Christianity: the only future we possibly have lies with God because our future lies in Jesus. Easter Sunday does not abolish this truth; it makes it more glaringly obvious.
While it is still dark in the tomb, however, where there is no guarantee of Sunday, let us ponder the lament of Psalm 130: “Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord. Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications!...I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in [the Lord’s] word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning, more than those who watch for the morning.” Let us wait in silence and openness for the coming of our God, our future and our hope.
--Jodi Belcher
