Happy Easter!

So today isn't actually Easter - I'm a day early, but I doubt I'll have time to post anything tomorrow, and I doubt anyone would have time to read a post on that day anyway. So Happy Easter a day early! Actually, today is my favorite day of Holy Week, I think. I know that may sound strange, and I guess I feel a little guilty about it - like it should be tomorrow, but without being corny, we really do kind of celebrate Easter all year long. I mean, once Jesus was risen, he was risen - it wasn't a one day thing, and while the event itself is hugely significant and foundational to our faith, the idea of the resurrection is a pretty basic part of my day-to-day faith. I mean I think of Jesus every day as risen - I rarely ever consider the Jesus who was dead and in the grave.

So anyway, today is my favorite day of Holy Week because it's the Day on Which Nothing Happened. No hosannas, no crowds, no last suppers, no trials, no earthquakes, nothing. Peter has preached about Holy Week a few times - it's one of his favorite topics I think, and what he has said about this day has always stuck with me. For us, who know the resurrection as fact, Saturday is just a waiting period. Good Friday has passed and now we're just waiting for all the festivities tomorrow - there's no tension, or fear, or dread, or even sadness really - we just have to have a little patience (and not much for that matter) for what we already know will happen tomorrow. On the original Holy Saturday however, the situation was a little different. This day, even more than Good Friday in my opinion, was the day of emptiness. There was nothing to hope for. Nothing to wait for. To the disciples, what was done was done. There was no longer any chance for a last minute miracle. The last minute had already come and gone and all their hopes were dead and buried. There was nothing to look forward to, no sign of a Savior. From sunrise to sunset there was just nothing. Even now, maybe even more than Good Friday, it's this day that breaks my heart when I think about Holy Week, especially when I think about it from the perspective of his followers at the time. One of my favorite verses is Psalm 121:1-2, "I lift up my eyes to the hills - where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth." How the disciples must have internally and metaphorically searched the hills for some sign of hope, and how must they have felt when time and time again their eyes met nothing? No one was coming to save them. They were completely alone.

For better or worse, this is the day of Holy Week that I most relate to. I know the joy of the resurrection, but honestly it's probably been the days of emptiness and sorrow that have been most pivotal in my life. The few tragedies that I have experienced were not felt most strongly on the day of their initiation - those days were numb with shock and filled with activity and distraction. It's the stillness and silence and emptiness of the morning after where the true significance of loss hits you. So I'm glad we celebrate Holy Saturday - because to me, the joy and celebration and hope-realized that is coming tomorrow is really more for this day than it was for Good Friday. This is the day when I most feel my need for a Savior and this is the day when hope is all but extinguished and yet is most meaningful. I know I will have more of these days in my life, and when they come I know I can recognize them for what they are and accept them without fear. Because I know what will come, what is coming, with daybreak tomorrow, and I can wait for it, just as we celebrate the waiting today.