Saturday, March 22, 2008

Holy Saturday


V: Sorrowful Mother, all humanity shares your loss.

R: Bless us all, Womb of Humanity, and renew our journey into new life.


I press my broken son to me, as if I can absorb him once again into my body. Oh Beloved! Have mercy on me! Pour Your tender mercies down upon me and help me! Help me! I have no strength left.

And once again, You send my bright angel. I feel the warmth at my back, the angel’s hand upon my bent head, and hear the familiar voice: “Mary, Blessed of all Women, do not be afraid, for God is pleased with you.”

And I remember the Promise: “All will be well. All manner of things will be well.”

I allow them to take my son’s body from me. They are telling me it is time to prepare him for burial. Salome has brought spices, and Joseph of Arimethea has gotten permission to bury him in his nearby tomb. And so I go through the ritual motions. As I once laid his sweet body tenderly in a cradle, I now lay his broken body tenderly in the tomb. The smell of the sweet herbs fills the air. For one last time, I kiss his mortal face, then gently cover it with the sheet of fine white fabric. My hand caresses the soft cloth, and I smile. Would that I had had such fine cloth to clothe him in while he lived.

But I have no bitterness left. My heart already is looking ahead. We walk outside, and James and John push the great stone over the entrance. I stand looking at the tomb.

How long, oh Beloved, how long? As my dear friends move about me, peace settles on me. I am again one with Your will. Let it happen as You say.

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