04/16/2022

Lynn Murphy Mark

This is the most mysterious of days leading to Easter. In my opinion, anyway. What happened in the darkness of the tomb? What kind of power was building in that dry, quiet space? When did the atoms that were Jesus’s still form transform and transition to light and a different kind of life? Did Jesus wonder what could possibly be happening to him? Or was he beyond such mundane thoughts? Who moved the stone from the mouth of the tomb? 

While all this was happening in what was thought to be a final resting place of a man with a faithful following, where were the women and the disciples? Having lived through the deaths of people that I love, I remember the day after their transition occurred. After a night of restless sleep, with perhaps an hour or so of peaceful slumber, night becomes day. And light shines on sorrow in whatever form that takes.

I know we wake up and for a brief few seconds, nothing has changed in the world. Then comes the moment of realization that life will not be the same again, that a profound loss has inserted itself into our awareness. Maybe it didn’t really happen, until memories of yesterday haul us into the truth. The finality begins to take shape in our hearts and minds and we hope for some guidance on just how to step into this new reality. 

At some point in that clumsy next day questions arise. What was it like, this dying? Was it fear or peace that ushered this loved one into the next phase of a new form of energy? Did I do everything I could to comfort them as they made their transition? I will never forget that the day before my mother died she asked me for some orange juice and I told her I couldn’t find any juice in the hospital break room. A silly thing, but forty years later I still wish I had done everything to get her what she asked for. Because when it is said and done there are no do-overs.

As Jesus was transforming, did God count the tears of those who loved him most? What was that long night like for each of them? Did anyone wish they could see him just one more time? Little did they know that this precious gift was already being arranged by a power so far beyond our understanding that, thousands of years later, some of us still wonder how death and life could be interchanged into a resurrection.

One of my favorite hymns has the words, “We walk by faith and not by sight.” I quote this as often as possible when I am struggling with any form of understanding. Holy Saturday is such a time for me. 

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