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“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.”

This is a very old quotation beginning an ancient sermon for Holy Saturday.

This day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday has the feeling of an in-between day, a liminal time between where we are and what we desire.

A day after death awaiting resurrection.

Today the sacraments are not celebrated (until tomorrow’s celebration of Easter begins with Vigil tonight). We feel an inertia like the lethargy in the weeks after the death of one we love.

Something strange is happening.

This day after the crucifixion is referred to in the Apostles Creed: Jesus “suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried. He descended into hell, rose again from the dead on the third day.”

This descent of Jesus to hell, or to the dead, is sometimes referred to in art (and theology) as the “Harrowing of Hell,” the day when Christ journeys to the depths and to the beginning of time to call all who have already died into the kingdom opened by his resurrection.

On this in-between day there is a lot happening, all of it beyond our limited earthly perception, deeper than our awareness, and only visible to us in glimpses and tastes.

I’m remembering some other times in scripture when God seemed to be sleeping. Think of the boat when his disciples were panicking during the storm on the lake. I understand the fear in the disciples, but Jesus is surprised and after calming the storm wonders why they were afraid.

Jesus seems to be assuring us, saying to us: even if you think I’m not listening, I am here and I am active therefore there is no reason for you to be afraid.

Now that’s a message I need to hear.

When I struggle to experience Jesus in the midst of the routines and demands of my life this does not mean that Jesus is not present or that he is inactive or uninterested. Instead he is wise to remain hidden since if I did notice him at work, well, to put it bluntly, I’d probably stuff it up by trying to take control.

On this in-between day we experience the reality of our faith-context on earth. Holy Saturday silence reminds us that here on earth we are in a time of waiting for the time of fulfilment (to quote the funeral liturgy) when every tear will be wiped away.

I appreciated this audio visual presentation of the Homily, which is also in today’s Office of Readings.