Always Holy Saturday

Holy Saturday is that odd day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday during which Jesus Christ—life himself!—lay dead in a tomb.-Travis Ryan Pickell, Before Christ Rose, He Was Dead

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.

Holy Monday--Staying Through Suffering

My son said to me yesterday: "I guess living in an historical moment isn't all it is cracked up to be." Truth.

I was loading groceries in my car yesterday when a family got out of their truck, clothed in masks and gloves and started making their way toward the store. They had forgotten something and the man returned to the truck to get it and discovered his keys were locked in there. He came undone. He berated himself telling his wife that this was the fourth time he had done this in a month and asking over and over "What is wrong with me? I am so stupid." At one point, he grabbed a tool from the back of his truck and headed for the window while his wife held him back saying, "No, no, it will cost more to fix that than to call the locksmith." He lamented, nearly collapsing at times and moaning about the $180 he had already spent to get into his truck. I tried to console him, telling him it was a trying time and he needed not to be so hard himself. I tried to give him some cash, but he wouldn't take it, insisting that this was entirely his problem. I finally left, breathing a prayer for this poor man, his wife, his son, obviously in a difficult place.

This Lent has been so very real as I have watched up close and from a far the various sufferings of people around me. A few, far away, have actually had the virus, and we have prayed for healing. But nearly everyone has the Fear, the questions of when it will end, what they will lose, what life will look like when it is over? Will it be over? I've felt that suffering in my anxiety-prone body, which serves as my early warning system that not all is well with my soul.

I've learned to fast from media, which feeds the fear and frenzy. I'm usually stalwart in the morning but by evening I need to keep away from information and statistics and numbers of deaths. I've embraced my lack of omniscience and control, and chosen to focus on stories of hope and help.

My family gathers to pray every morning and I continue throughout the day, remembering friends and family on the front lines of combat serving in hospitals, working in mental health, and the clergy, that are working more hours while I work less.

Yesterday we did not wave our palms; we fashioned them into crosses immediately. We could feel the long journey to the Cross coming quickly.

Monday of Holy Week has always felt like a long pause to me. The triumphal entry is over and the Cross looms, but for a little while, there is just routine and quiet. What did He do on Monday? What do I do on Monday? Work, pray, love the people around me, and prepare.

A Few Weekend Photos

Belle Isle Conservatory, Detroit, MI, Ph: Ben Reitz

Detroit from Belle Isle

Evie picking up a nail for the cross at Good Friday service

Belle Isle Aquarium, Oldest Aquarium in N. America

Holy Saturday

I will always remember my first huge loss. My uncle died suddenly of a heart attack at 55 when I was 21. He was a wonderful uncle, vibrant, with a baritone voice that was unforgettable. He prayed like no one else; you knew God was in the room when he started "Hello Father."

Throughout the several days it took as we gathered family, I remember the weight of the grief that kept building. It was after the funeral when our family gathered to share a meal others had prepared that someone told a story and we all laughed. That laughter caught me. I remember thinking, "I couldn't have gone more minute without laughter." It took a load off of my still-grieving heart. But grief has to release sometime. Or it is unbearable.

Holy Saturday is like that to me. It isn't joy yet. That's coming. But on the first Holy Saturday, they didn't know that. They just knew they had to gather together and eat a meal and maybe hide out from the authorities in case they decided to come after his followers.

We celebrated Holy Saturday like that. Not full out celebration but after walking through Good Friday, where we were invited to nail things we needed to release to a cross, we needed to relax. Only we get to know what tomorrow holds.

And we are ready to shout He is Risen!

The Healing Judgment

Then he said to them all: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. -Luke 9:23-24 (NIV)

I read this quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer about a week ago and it has been working on me, kneading my soul as I have watched those who claim the name of Christ go stumbling off cliffs in giant numbers, declaring that no one should have to deny himself, no one should have to lay down his life. It is not the claims of "equal rights" that bother me. It is the decision to not only let others take their own lives, but to hand them the weapon and pat them on the back.

When another Christian falls into obvious sin, an admonition is imperative, because God’s Word demands it. The practice of discipline in the community of faith begins with friends who are close to one another. Words of admonition and reproach must be risked when a lapse from God’s Word in doctrine or life endangers a community that lives together, and with it the whole community of faith. Nothing can be more cruel than that leniency which abandons others to their sin. Nothing can be more compassionate than that severe reprimand which calls another Christian in one’s community back from the path of sin. When we allow nothing but God’s Word to stand between us, judging and helping, it is a service of mercy, an ultimate offer of genuine community. Then it is not we who are judging; God alone judges, and God’s judgment is helpful and healing. -Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Bonhoeffer's quote packs so much meaning because he speaks to us from a church that had continually refused to stand for truth and justice and then paid a terrible price for it. At the heart of the Reformation, Christ was denied, and a people put their immediate temporal desires above the work of Christ, and the entire nation paid.

I'm sad that our country is where it is at, but nations come and nations go. Ours is unique in the world, but not so unique that it can be everlasting, that it can avoid the pitfalls of humanity.

But when the church, when those who claim the name of Christ, abandon all fidelity to Him, and put their "needs" (consumer, sexual, emotional, etc...) above faithfulness to the Cross, what then?

One thing I've noticed in recent years is the Church's emphasis on Easter, the Resurrection, the Victory, while completely ignoring Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, the Vigil. You don't get Easter, you don't get resurrection, until you die. You have to pass through the crucifixion. Jesus did die for us. He did take our place, but He also told us we would have to die too.

Many who claim that God made them the way they are and they shouldn't have to change one thing about themselves would point to those of us who disagree and say we hold on to our petty sins of consumerism and judgmentalism and self-righteousness. And they are right. Many of us hold onto our idols and we are no different. We should hold ourselves up for examination. When others correct us, we shouldn't throw off their words with "Don't judge me." This very action brings judgement upon ourselves.

Today I will remember a Christ who said on this day in history: “Get up and pray so that you will not fall into temptation.” (Luke 22:46) (NIV) Like the disciples, I'm tired. I'm weary. I am sick of praying for an unrepentant people. But I'm commanded to keep going. This is a Cross for me. 

Tomorrow, I will remember the death of our Lord. I will remember that there were two criminals put to death on either side of Him. Only one will be in heaven. The One who repented. 

Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.-Gal. 5:24 (NIV)

Good Friday

from Imago Fidei

What Our Savior Saw From the Cross by James Tissot

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me,
so far from the words of my groaning?

O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer,
by night, and am not silent.

Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One;
you are the praise of Israel.

In you our fathers put their trust;
they trusted and you delivered them.

They cried to you and were saved;
in you they trusted and were not disappointed.

But I am a worm and not a man,
scorned by men and despised by the people.

All who see me mock me;
they hurl insults, shaking their heads:

"He trusts in the Lord;
let the Lord rescue him.
Let him deliver him,
since he delights in him."

Yet you brought me out of the womb;
you made me trust in you
even at my mother's breast.

From birth I was cast upon you;
from my mother's womb you have been my God.

Do not be far from me,
for trouble is near
and there is no one to help.

Many bulls surround me;
strong bulls of Bashan encircle me.

Roaring lions tearing their prey
open their mouths wide against me.

I am poured out like water,
and all my bones are out of joint.
My heart has turned to wax;
it has melted away within me.

My strength is dried up like a potsherd,
and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth;
you lay me in the dust of death.

Dogs have surrounded me;
a band of evil men has encircled me,
they have pierced my hands and my feet.

I can count all my bones;
people stare and gloat over me.

They divide my garments among them
and cast lots for my clothing.

But you, O Lord, be not far off;
O my Strength, come quickly to help me.

Deliver my life from the sword,
my precious life from the power of the dogs.

Rescue me from the mouth of the lions;
save me from the horns of the wild oxen.

I will declare your name to my brothers;
in the congregation I will praise you.

You who fear the Lord, praise him!
All you descendants of Jacob, honor him!
Revere him, all you descendants of Israel!

For he has not despised or disdained
the suffering of the afflicted one;
he has not hidden his face from him
but has listened to his cry for help.

From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly;
before those who fear you will I fulfill my vows.

The poor will eat and be satisfied;
they who seek the Lord will praise him —
may your hearts live forever!

All the ends of the earth
will remember and turn to the Lord,
and all the families of the nations
will bow down before him,

for dominion belongs to the Lord
and he rules over the nations.

All the rich of the earth will feast and worship;
all who go down to the dust will kneel before him—
those who cannot keep themselves alive.

Posterity will serve him;
future generations will be told about the Lord.

They will proclaim his righteousness
to a people yet unborn —
for he has done it.

— Psalm 22

Maundy Thursday

Passion is the love by which we stay the course,
no matter what. Passion keeps us at the bedside of the sick and dying. Passion keeps loving and forgiving when life is hard and people stumble. In the way that mature love never fails, as stated in 1 Corinthians 13, passion stays.

-Vinita Hampton Wright,
Days of Deepening Friendship

Can You Drink the Cup I Am About to Drink? by Fr. John Kiefer

Fasting

I don't read about fasting because I like it. Like prayer, fasting is ridiculously hard for me. Modern life is so completely distracting that I find myself rushing around trying to get it all done and never really stopping to think. Then I crash in to bed at night too tired and apologizing to God for spending so little time with Him. It sounds like a parent who never has time for their child calling out "You know I love you, right?" as he heads out the door. And the child thinking, "You don't even know me." Sometimes I think I can hear God responding to me like the child.

But I do love Him and I do want to recognize His voice and I have noted that I trust Him more when I've spent some time pushing out distractions. So fasting and prayer are subjects I try to read about often to keep me trying. Richard Foster's Celebration of Discipline is on my nightstand, and I've blogged about Jan Winebrenner's Intimate Faith.

Richard Foster is a classic writer, deep thinker, insightful Christian. But whenever I read his book, I can visualize him spending hours in prayer in a quiet study and going for long walks in the woods while his family eats on his fasting days and I want to remind him that I have to cook the dinner and I would love to have a little quiet for even a few minutes.

Fasting was a breath of fresh air. Lynne Baab writes about nursing and pregnant mothers and she simply takes fasting out of the box I've had it in. She grounds fasting in historical Christianity and then applies it to modern culture, where we may need to fast the internet to make time to pray more than we need to give up food. She writes about right reasons to fast, and wrong reasons, who shouldn't fast, and different kinds of fast. And the book is in a good font and has little boxes with great quotes on fasting from writers and people who fast, or don't fast.

And at the end, I knew it was ok that I can't do strict water-only fasts at this period of my life for any significant length of time. And that sometimes my motivations are so very wrong I should stop fasting and have a slice of pizza and work on getting my heart right. But I also know that fasting is something I want to do, can do, and will be doing more often.

Sunday of the Palms

Today begins the most important week of the year in Christendom. It begins as a brief ray of light in the greyness of Lent. Our service begins outside with the waving of palm branches and shouts of "Hosanna! Blessed is He Who comes in the name of the Lord." The beauty of a brilliantly sunny day added to the feeling of lightness today.

But just a few minutes later, the Gospel reading takes us from the triumphal entry in Jerusalem to the desolation and abandonment of Christ as his disciples fail to watch and pray with him in Gethsamane and then one of his own betrays him and the others flee. All of those voices of praise disappear and he is left alone.

We have failed Him. We have failed to keep our Lenten commitments, we have failed to trust Him, we have failed to pray, we have failed to come to Him for strength, we have failed to bear His light to the world.

He Is Risen

from Ben

The wackiness continued last night. We went to church again. This time Kyri went in her pajamas. I was really excited to be there and I ran around and made Mom a little cranky. But by the time I had to sit, I was feeling really tired. Kyri was crying and Mom had to take her in the back and bounce her to sleep. Then she slept in her carseat.

I curled up with my blanket and tried to sleep. But some people got dunked in a tank full of water outside and we had to go watch it. Then after awhile Fr. Joe said "Christ is Risen." And everyone shouted: "He is Risen Indeed." And then they rang their bells. Lots of bells. And singing. And I was thinking, "Couldn't we save this for the morning?"

Dad put me in pajamas before we left for home. And then in the car on the way home Mom asked if I wanted a chocolate cookie to celebrate. I never get chocolate cookies, especially in the middle of the night. That's the last thing I remember. But I woke up in my bed this morning.

Editor's Note: We had service from 9:45-midnight. It was supposed to be 9-11 but the baptismal tank (cattle trough) sprung a leak. So they had to move it outside on the portico.We were exhausted, but our Orthodox friends had service until something like 3am. So midnight is good.

Maundy Thursday

from the mom

Yesterday was Maundy Thursday. (The word "Maundy" comes from the Latin for 'command' (mandatum). It refers to the command given by Jesus at the Last Supper, that his disciples should love one another.) Our focus is on the Last Supper and the Garden of Gethsemane.

Our church has a foot-washing ceremony after a shared meal. The other kids Ben's age were off playing in a separate room but he remained with us. Ben loves church and we feel really blessed that he has a natural interest. One of the little girls in our church came and asked if she could wash Ben's feet. It was a truly precious thing. Ben's understanding may be limited but he treated the experience with absolute reverence. At times I wonder if children should participate. And then I realize that my understanding is limited too. And we have two commands that guide me: 1) We are to become as little children and 2) Let the little children come unto Me.

Our church holds a prayer vigil through this night where everyone commits to praying for an hour. It has been one of the most meaningful things I've experienced as I reflect on Christ's words: "Could you not watch and pray with me for one hour?" Because my schedule is a little more flexible I was letting others take the first slots and planned to take what was left. We were in the car on the ride home when I realized I hadn't signed up for one. When I told M, he said, "I'll pray for you." I accepted that grace as it has been a long week. This morning at 4:55 when M's alarm went off, I let him get up and pray for both us. Next year, I won't miss my slot. It means too much to me. But this year, I am reflecting on how we "bear one another's burdens." I'm thankful there are those who pray when I cannot.