We can suppose Mary kept this silence throughout that long Sabbath rest. She had stood close by her son throughout his ordeal. As his first and most faithful disciple, she felt more than anyone the spiritual devastation of his crucifixion; as his mother, she felt all the emotional horror of it. And yet she believed and loved and hoped. Although she had a choice, and she knew she could choose bitterness and hate and despair, the Spirit of God still moved in her heart. She waited.
On Holy Saturday, I think of the words of the poet T.S. Eliot, who became a Catholic late in life:
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.