A Holy Saturday reel from the archives based on the Byzantine liturgy. I love that it’s full of hope and allows space for grieving…
Where do you need to find space for grieving and hoping this Holy Saturday?
Category: Divine Office
Some thoughts from the archives on Holy Saturday…
There is always an element of relief in arriving at Holy Saturday, if only because we’ve moved through the high drama of Good Friday to a quieter, more reflective space. People often talk of Holy Saturday as a “tomb day”, a time to sit with the emptiness that follows death, to allow the events of Good Friday to sink in. I recognise the yearning for that and its wisdom yet, it’s not an experience I recognise from monastic life.
In practice for many of us Holy Saturday is very much a hybrid day, we are aware of its emptiness, the mourning and the uncertainty. We also have to acknowledge that the Easter vigil is fast approaching and that Easter liturgies and treats do not plan themselves. So it is also a day of preparation and anticipation that can be very busy.
As we move through this hybrid day I’m reflecting on these words from the lamentations of the prophet Jeremiah from this morning’s Office of Readings:
“The favours of the Lord are not all past, nor his kindnesses exhausted; every morning they are renewed: great is his faithfulness. My portion is with the Lord says my soul, and so I will hope in him.”
Even in the midst of his lamentation Jeremiah is able to acknowledge the kindness and faithfulness of God, and to put his hope in that. His words speak to me of the hybrid reality of the day. It seems to me that Holy Saturday calls us to imitate God’s kindness to others as we get on with the many preparations for Easter, and to ourselves as we seek small moments of quiet during the day.
As we celebrate Holy Saturday where are you aware of the Lord renewing your capacity for kindness?
A post from the archives for Good Friday.
This week I’ve been listening to Amy Jill Levine’s courses on Holy Week and the Good Friday. One of the things she highlighted is how often Jesus offered people a second chance, Zacchaeus, all those tax collectors and sinners, the woman taken in adultery come to mind and there are many more.
It has an added significance as we revisit the passion, and see the second chance offered to those who denied and betrayed him, to those who sat on the side lines or runaway, or who only found the courage to come to him under the cover of darkness.
As we come to Good Friday, facing the stark reality of the Cross, it can feel like the time for second chances has run out. As we commemorate the crucified Christ it can seem as though we have reached the end of the story, and that our hopes are ending in death, disgrace, betrayal and failure. On Good Friday we begin Lauds by singing these verses from the Byzantine liturgy:
“Life-giving Lord, it is right to sing your praise, for your hands were stretched out on the Cross, and so you destroyed the power of death.”
We start Good Friday by acknowledging Christ as our “Life-giving Lord”, a powerful reminder that the Cross is not the end of the story, but a gateway to new life. The Cross is an essential part of our faith, we need to face it, acknowledging the suffering and death it represents. And, we need to accept the second chance it offers us with it’s promise of new life.
What second chance is Christ offering you this Good Friday?
Some thoughts on Holy Week from the archives.
One of the things that holds the themes of Holy Week together for me is our Lauds hymn. Each day it its own verse that reflects a particular aspect of the Salvation narrative that we’re celebrating through this great and challenging week.
These are combined with a refrain that’s repeated each day, linking the themes and drawing them together across the days.
Today’s theme is trust.
“The Son of man alone yet trusting goes.
His life into his Father’s hands commends.”
Alone, betrayed and deserted by those who love him Jesus hands himself over to the Father in complete trust. In stressful times I tend towards micromanagement, wanting to control and fix everything myself. So I find Jesus’ capacity to abandon himself completely to God’s will breath taking and challenging. It reminds me that I am also called to surrender and to put myself and my concerns into God’s hands rather than trying to fix everything myself.
Where are you called to surrender your life to God this Holy Week?
Some thoughts from the archives on the new hope of Holy Week:
One of the things that holds the themes of Holy Week together for me is our Lauds hymn. Each day it its own verse that reflects a particular aspect of the Salvation narrative that we’re celebrating through this great and challenging week.
These are combined with a refrain that’s repeated each day, linking the themes and drawing them together across the days.
The second theme of I find it helpful to reflect on is new hope:
“There Love cries out despairing at his end
New hope to us, the loveless to extend.”
Holy Week can feel so full of fear, despair and betrayal that it can be hard to keep sight of hope. Even as Jesus cries out in despair from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me”, his love reaches across the despair with a new hope.
Where is Christ’s love calling out to you today?
Some thoughts for Holy Week from the archives…
“And stretching out his arms on Calvary,
Draw all the ages to him on the Tree.”
One of the things that holds the themes of Holy Week together for me is our Lauds hymn. Each day it its own verse that reflects a particular aspect of the Salvation narrative that we’re celebrating through this great and challenging week.
These are combined with a refrain that’s repeated each day, linking the themes and drawing them together across the days.
Today’s theme is the tree of life. It links the tree of life in the garden of Eden with the cross. It reminds me that death and life are linked, that by drawing us to himself on the cross Jesus draws us into the light of new life.
Where do you feel Christ drawing you to himself this Holy Week?
After I wrote my post for Palm Sunday I went to the Vigil and heard again the beautiful second reading from St Andrew of Crete. It’s too good not to share again. Here’s a reflection on the reading from our archives.
Every year at on the Eve of Palm Sunday we listen to a beautiful reading from the writings of St Andrew of Crete. It sums up Palm Sunday for me, opening the way to Holy Week and setting the tone for it. I return again and again to these words:
“Let us imitate those who have gone out to meet him, not scattering olive branches or garments or palms in his path, but spreading ourselves before him as best we can, with humility of soul and upright purpose. So may we welcome the Word as he comes, so may God, who cannot be contained within any bounds, be contained within us.”
We are living in uncertain and challenging times. In the midst of much hardship we’re discovering much about the God cannot be contained and about the myriad of ways that God can transform our lives. We’ve also learned much about the boundaries and limitations we are tempted to try to erect around God.
We’re moving into Holy Week aware of the sufferings and uncertainties in our fragile and broken lives and world, knowing that it’s beyond our power to fix it. With all that in our hearts we can move into Holy Week aware of our need for the transforming presence of “God who cannot be contained within any bounds” nurturing us in the depths of our hearts.
As we move into Holy Week where are you discovering the God “who cannot be contained within any bounds”?