It is Holy week again, although it didn't quite feel like. For the first time in a while I had to work on Good Friday. I find myself typing away on Saturday (Sabado de Gloria in Puerto Rico) and for the first time perhaps, I'm just thinking about what this space between Good Friday and Easter Sunday means for me. Looking back, and as close as this week's schedule, I don't recall a single church activity whatsoever. Saturday is a blank slate, what seems to be a meaningless space between the agitation of Friday and the joy of Sunday. And then it hit me.
I read a Psalm this morning . I've read it before- Psalm 88- in fact is a favorite of mine. I call it the Goth Psalm as David was feeling quite comfortable with the whole dark aesthetics concept: "You have taken my companions and loved ones from me; darkness is my only friend."
What a desperate feeling, to be devoured by oblivion and loss.
That is why we do nothing on Saturday, it makes perfect sense. It is a dreadful day, worse than Friday. It is the first day without the Master for his disciples, the day in which all bets are off... if nothing happens tomorrow, then what? It is that moment after the doorposts have been marked in blood, the looooooooooong wait between promise and deliverance... Saturday is a day of choices between uncertainty and certitude. Saturday is a very personal day, to overcome doubt and experience faith. That is always a good thing.
We all have our Saturdays, it is the human thing to do, to fear and doubt and cry bitter abandonment, but it just doesn't stop there, after all we all came to the foot of the cross bound by perfect love and perfect love banishes all fear and opens doors to wonders.
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