Holy Saturday

We enjoyed two Easter Egg Hunts today on a perfect-weather day for such things.
We laughed, and ate candy and hot dogs, even took a picture with the Easter Bunny.
All the while, I remembered that on this day in 33 a.d., those who loved Jesus were grieving, not laughing around eggs and candy and chips and a bunny in the sunshine.

Today, the cloth on the wooden cross in front of our building is still black. Officially, the Church is still mourning Jesus' death on the cross. But in reality, we're hiding eggs and talking about an empty tomb.

Celebrating Easter while living through the reality of Holy Week is a strange thing. I love the tradition of it all, worshipping through the the story, experiencing it together as a church. But living in the past while knowing the future is a paradox.

Last night, we cried in the dark as we heard and sang of Jesus' betrayal and sacrifice for our salvation.

The night before that, we remembered Jesus' last supper with his friends, and shared in the remembrance meal ourselves as we received the Sacrament of Communion. And then we stripped the church of its accoutrements, down to the bare wood, just as Jesus was stripped of his friends, his clothing, his life.

In all of that, we mourned our part in this story of sacrifice and salvation, the sinfulness for which Jesus died. And we prayed that our sin might die with Christ.

But today we look forward to what comes tomorrow. We already rejoice, because unlike Jesus' first disciples, we know how this story ends. We know that tomorrow, when we go to peer into Jesus' tomb, it will be empty. And we know that because it is, we can and will know Resurrection life with our Lord.

It is the already, and the not yet--
It is the reality of faith and life for those who follow Jesus to the cross and beyond.

Thank God we don't do it alone.
For the Risen Lord helps us.