Silence, and waiting.

This morning, we awake to remember the crushing reality that Love is dead. He lies in a tomb, like every other loved one we have lost to death before. All we can do is come together in our mourning, clinging to one another. We search for the meaning of the events that have come to pass, and we are hearing stories of all those things we did not witness with our own eyes. It is with disbelief that we face the reality that the One who had all the power in the world did not prevent Himself from being overtaken by death. We marvel at the humility and docility that he maintained, even until his last moments. His mother and John tell us what he said before He died, and we beat our breasts that we did not stay with him.

Yes, this is what the disciples did on that day… and it is what we do now, every day.

We realize that we did this. We put the Lord in a tomb. We realize how empty are lives are without the man who was Love. We cling to one another, searching for meaning. We hear stories of what happened and how terrible it was. We shudder in our disbelief and mourn over our regrets.

But as we come together, then and now, we realize that the whole picture is coming together. We are beginning to see how everything was prophesied and happened just as Jesus said and the prophets foretold. If all of this is true… surely He will come again? Surely He will rise! Won’t he?

Has he?

So today, we wait. Quietly, in awe, and in mourning.

We are alone… but there is still hope.

This day defines our entire existence.
For somewhere between the bloody cross and the empty tomb, our lives are a longing, waiting, and clinging to one another, hoping to see our Beloved again.


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