Today is Holy Saturday. Christ is in the tomb. Easter has not yet arrived. An anonymous writer penned, “Something strange is happening – there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep.”
While today has not been totally silent for me, it has had a different sort of feel. I’ve been strangely lethargic. And we seem to have hit the pause button on our travels and visits to various places.
We were pleased that John’s aunt was feeling better this morning. We picked up some pizza and enjoyed the quiet of her back yard. The breeze was keeping the wind chimes dancing. And the doves were cooing. But things were otherwise fairly quiet.
Early in the afternoon John’s cousin Angi and her husband Mike arrived. We had not seen Angi in more than thirty years, and we had never met Mike. It was a sweet time catching up with them.
John and I took Mike and spent the later part of the afternoon visiting a family owned pecan grove in Willcox, AZ. Paul and Jackie Lee, the owners, were wonderfully kind and gracious hosts. If any of you would like absolutely fresh, sustainably grown pecans, I’d highly recommend Lee’s Pecan Orchard. They ship! The farm was neat and clean and so quiet. It was a peaceful, serene place to spend Holy Saturday afternoon.
After a couple of wine tastings in Willcox, we headed back to Benson and spent the evening with Aunt Diana. I must say that it is tough to see her so frail. But we know that, for her, death is not the end. I am moved by the reminder of others who will have a different future. “Holy Saturday is a day to pray for those who walk among us as the living dead. Their hope is placed in all things other than Christ and, for them, death will be ultimate, final, and hopeless.”
I am not one to favor heavy handed, coercive or manipulative evangelistic techniques. I am not in a position to know how God may be at work in the life of any individual or to judge the state of anyone’s soul. But I am grieved at the thought of death being final for anyone. And I am grieved at the thought of the pain that the loss of even one soul brings to our loving God. Today is a day to ponder such things.
I will leave you with these words by 16th century Archbishop Thomas Cranmer:
“On this holy Saturday, the final day of Lent, let our faith be made stronger; let us be more assured that sin and death are conquered; let us know a little more of the light through the sometimes impenetrable shadows. Whether the Harrowing of Hell is literal or figurative, corporeal or spiritual, it has a message for all of us today: the highest response to evil is to free people from it. Let us rejoice that our Redeemer lives.”
— Thomas Cranmer
“Eternal God, rock and refuge…we wait for revival and release. Abide with us until we come alive in the sunrise of your glory. Amen.”
— Anonymous
