A Day of Trauma

"He went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus..." Matthew 27. 57 - 66

When my father died, my mother and two brothers and I were there with him. After the initial wave of grief had passed, we put on our Martha hats and thought about the practical things we needed to do. Call the funeral home, make arrangements for the body to be picked up, start thinking about when and how we would bury him and celebrate his life. I made the call to my friend Aaron Bivens, the funeral home director, who picked up on the first ring even though it was a Sunday morning, and asked all the right questions, then said "I will take care of everything." The hospital staff brought us a fruit plate and water and coffee and many condolences, and then my mother said it was time to go. The hospital staff said they would remove the body and take it to the morgue at which point my brother, Larry, said to my brother, Nicholas, "Come on Nick, we will accompany Dad's body to the morgue." That's what Marines do.

That's what Holy Saturday is all about. It is a day when the practical tasks have to be done, and just as it was for my family, so it must have been for Jesus' disciples and Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus. It is a day of distractions from the emotional trauma of what happened on Good Friday. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus had to run the risk of exposing their relationship with Jesus. (The disciples had already done that, and one of them had already denied it.) The horror of their colleagues' vitriol towards Jesus was a moment of truth for them, and they knew they had to make a stand, and they did. So they embalmed his body and laid him in a tomb.

The enormity of the events of Good Friday are almost too much to take in. I feel caught in a liminal place of confusion and trauma. On this day every year, I try to keep myself from thinking about what lies ahead. I hold the tension of the covered up tomb and this in-between time with great reverence. I find it to be an important pause.

Here is a poem by Trevor Williams * that might hold you steady on this frighteningly shaky day.

Jesus,

on this in-between day

when you were no longer visible

your disciples and friends were left in the grip of strong emotions

and difficult choices.

Be with us in our in-between places

and whatever we are facing

may we know your constant presence with us

even if you are hidden from our sight.

Amen

*from what were you arguing about along the way? edited by Pat Bennett