“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” [Holy Saturday reflection]

Hello my name is Br. Sam Gunn and I'm sharing with you on this Holy Saturday some thoughts about our Lord Jesus and His words “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” As I share these thoughts with you, I am in quarantine. I have no symptoms, thanks be to God, but I am being very careful because of the possible exposure to the virus. 

So we continue our journey together in these strange days, we’re living a truly extraordinary Holy Triduum. We’re walking with the Lord farther from others, but probably closer with Jesus than ever before. We’re in a time of quiet, that's what Holy Saturday is about. It’s not a peaceful quiet, but the kind of quiet that comes after a really, terrible shock. 

The Church is reliving the experience that the disciples had, when they felt abandoned, confused, and probably very guilty and completely alone, even though for the most part they were together. Holy Saturday is a time of loss and grieving. We’re reflecting together on the death of Jesus, our beloved Master and our most dear friend. 

If this was a normal Holy Week there would be something exceptional about a day like this. There's no Mass, no communion, but for many of us that's the reality we've been living in these weeks of pandemic.

What does it mean that the church “goes dark” today? It's a reminder that Jesus is in the tomb.  We express this in our Creed with the very brief phrase where we say “He descended into hell.” 

Before he was Pope, Benedict XVI wrote a book which I think has kind of a deceptive title. It’s called “Introduction to Christianity.” I remember when I picked it up some years ago I was expecting something kind of basic, easy-to-understand, but wow was I wrong. It was dense theology, but one part I did understand, and I've gone back to this again and again, is his reflection on Holy Saturday. Benedict, who was called Joseph Ratzinger back when he wrote it, says that all our fears, if we really boil them down to the bottom level, are summed up in a fear of being alone. If we think about the things that frighten us the most, maybe humiliation or rejection or isolation or death, under all of these is the fear that we’ll be cut off from everybody, especially from those whom we love. 

So that’s where Benedict places the meaning of Holy Saturday. It's a profound emptiness and aloneness that touches our deepest fears. But that’s not the point. The important message of Holy Saturday is this: by descending among the dead, which is the most profound solitude of all, Jesus enters into our loneliness at its deepest level, so we are not alone even in death. 

I can’t help but see the connection with this in our time of pandemic. We've been socially distancing for weeks and we've experienced, or we’re heard about people who've been separated from loved ones in birth and in death, and we don't have our usual distractions at our comforts and so the sense of isolation just grows oppressive. So I say it again, you're not alone. 

When thoughts come at us and the fears rise in our hearts, we remember these words of Jesus from His greatest solitude, which was the Cross. These are not words of despair that He speaks, but words of hope. “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” 

So much has been stripped away from us, our work, our worship, our freedom, even our fun. So we sit alone, but we are not alone. In this time of waiting, silence, and separation, we become aware of a presence, a loving and comforting presence, a quiet interior joy. It's a companionship in the most unexpected corner of our interior darkness. 

We await an awakening. How did it begin? It has already begun. The Lord is not dead, He is very much alive. He's alive in you, He’s alive in me. This isolation will not end in death, but in a richer, fuller life, where we will sing and say together with greater gratitude than ever, “O death,  where is your Victory? Death, where is your sting?” come Easter Sunday. God bless you.