I heard Doris Kearns Goodwin, a noted historian, saying that this moment in our history (this pandemic), while unique, most reminds her of the World War II era. She made a number of comparisons, but what most struck me is that she reminded us, "Remember, no one knew we were going to win the War." Right. I forget that.
Just like I have forgotten that on Holy Saturday, the disciples, friends and followers of Jesus didn't know that Easter Sunday was just one sleep away, and that the tomb would be empty and God would rise and the world would never be the same.
For them, he was dead. They were enemies of the regime, rejects of their own religious system; the leader they had given everything up for, was dead. They were sequestered in their homes, exhausted, devastated, confused.
Lent has faded into the Triduum and we stand on the brink of celebration. Tomorrow we will shout He is Risen!! Most of us will do it in our own homes, and I suspect it will lack a little bit of punch. But in another sense, we all have the opportunity to ponder the reality of an Easter to come: the end of sickness, fear, economic devastation, alienation from each other. I think it will be a very Holy Saturday Easter.
Most of us have lowered quite a few loved ones into the ground. We carry the weight of knowing there will be more separations, and eventually our own. We believe in resurrection, and we rejoice because Easter's Resurrection of God changes everything. We know it.
And yet, our lives are lived out like one long Holy Saturday. We believe death is gasping its final breaths, but it still does wound us. We believe in eternal life, but our bodies are not transformed yet. He is risen. We await our own resurrection.
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