Holy Saturday
As I write this, today is Holy Saturday. Actually, no matter what day you may read this, it will still be Holy Saturday, for my sense is that this is not a particular day but an experience of Soul. Traditionally, it is the day between Good Friday (crucifixion) and Easter Sunday (resurrection). It is the day Jesus “harrowed hell,” that is descended into utter darkness, caused tremendous upheaval and brought forth the souls that were held captive there. It is the day when I remember that there is no place in creation that The Holy has not been.
Dante described this in the Inferno, yet I find the chaos and despair depicted most powerfully in Rodin’s huge sculpture “The Gates of Hell,” which I’ve been fortunate enough to see both at Stanford and in Paris. Though he had not finished the sculpture, Rodin had intended to use Dante’s words above the Three Shades at the top of the gate: “Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here.”
Holy Saturday was a day I knew nothing about until some years ago when I read a chapter in Madeleine L’engle’s The Irrational Season, called “The Noes of God.” She wrote that “no matter how many eons it takes, [God] will not rest until all of creation, including Satan is reconciled to him [sic], until there is no creature who cannot return his [sic] look of love with a joyful response of love.
“It may take more years than we can count before Nero [or name your ‘favorite’ tyrant] …has learned enough love to be able to look with joy into the loving eyes of a Christ who enfleshed himself for a time on earth as a Jew, but [the malevolent one’s] punishments, no matter how terrible they may be, are lessons in love, and that love is greater than all his sick hate.”
Holy Saturday is a time akin to the alchemical dissolutio, the in-between time of a long process before the ordinary is transformed into the gold of perfection. This is the time when “things fall apart; the center cannot hold,” (W.B. Yeats). This is a time when chaos and disruption and sliminess seem to have a hold on all that is, and nothing is as it seems.
I believe our country is in a Holy Saturday time, whose duration is unknown, but whose disruption is indeed experienced. Terrifying as it is, something greater than we can imagine may be at work. Holy Saturday is a time for reverent centeredness, reflection, mourning, waiting. We must not skip Holy Saturday to rush Easter’s arrival, or the wings of the butterfly will become glued and it cannot take flight.
Holy Saturday is one of the most disturbing Medial experiences. In Between.
Thank you, Rev. Bobbie for your enlightening message. I love your words in the last paragraph, “Holy Saturday is a time for reverent centeredness, reflection, mourning, waiting” I will do just that! I will wait with anticipation and awe that something great is “in the works” for our nation. May it be so!
In love and light,
Louise
Thank you for this wonderful piece about Holy Saturday, dear Bobbie. As one who works extensively with those who are living with chronic illness and grief, Holy Saturday holds much meaning for me. The waiting and trusting can be so difficult! I am also reminded of John O’Donohue’s potent poem”The Interim Time” (https://selahcenter.org/for-the-interim-time/), especially: “You are in this time of the interim / Where everything seems withheld / The path you took to get here has washed out / The way forward is still concealed from you.”
Blessings of Easter ~ Sending much gratitude for you and your gifts.
Bobbie, thank you for your ever-so-thoughtful words. Holy Saturday, a day of “Harrowed hell,” holds special meaning for me this year I regretfully but honestly confess given the times we live in. In a world where “things fall apart; the center cannot hold,” I revere all the more the lyrics of Cat Stevens’ The Wind . . . “I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul.
Where I’ll end up well I think only God really knows.”
Holy Saturday this year was a windy day in my neck of the woods. In that wind, I am grateful to say, I found trace comfort.
Thank you, Bobbie, for these amazing and thoughtful words. I love you and pray for your healing.❤️🩹
“We must not skip Holy Saturday to rush Easter’s arrival, or the wings of the butterfly will become glued and it cannot take flight.”
I too often rush and get impatient. I need to live in the season that is Holy Saturday and give it its due.
Thank you for your wisdom and grace.
Mark
As always, I find a seat belt and helmet helpful in climbing into Bobbie’s writing. Her final paragraph bumps into my sense of impatience and quick fix emotions. “I believe our country is in a Holy Saturday time, whose duration is unknown, but whose disruption is indeed experienced. Terrifying as it is, something greater than we can imagine may be at work. Holy Saturday is a time for reverent centeredness, reflection, mourning, waiting. We must not skip Holy Saturday to rush Easter’s arrival, or the wings of the butterfly will become glued and it cannot take flight.”
Grateful for the hope you have shared, that our country can rise again out of the morass.