There is something haunting about today – Holy Saturday – which is the true ‘time between times’. Absolute negation, aporetic irony… all the usual stuff.
Maybe it is the left-over fragments of everything that proceeds this existential abyss – akin to the broken pieces of stone after a wall falls down, we either re-purpose these fragments or discard them. Such is the stewardship of regrets, loss and pain – either we doing something with it or we become it.
Henri Nouwen put it this way in his reflections upon Holy Saturday:
“Once we have begun to completely offer our wounded selves to God, all our wounds become signs of hope, as the wounds of Jesus were for the doubting Thomas. Once God has touched us in the midst of our struggles and has created in us the burning desire to be forever united with him, we will find the courage and confidence to prepare his way and to invite all who share our life to wait with us during this short time for the day of complete joy.”
We hunger for a map… but we really need a guide…