Even if you aren’t a religious person, or adhere to any particular faith, you can’t really escape the whole Easter thing. Our culture is kind of steeped in religious imagery, so these big days on the religious calendar affect you whether or not they align with your personal worldview.
The language of death and resurrection is going to find its way to your ears.
Have you heard the saying “we’re Easter people living in a Good Friday world”? The world of sin and violence being Good Friday, and the events in the story of that day. Easter, of course, being the redemption of that day, kicking over the finality of physical death in a big celebration of life.
The truth that is often ignored in this story is what happens on Saturday.
On Saturday of this Easter story, the one they love is dead. It just happened on Friday. They are reeling from the loss.
No one is singing all those hymns about resurrection and rebirth, no one is celebrating the return of anything. No one has any idea there might eventually be anything to celebrate.
Saturday is all about pain.
Those of us in deep pain, we are Saturday people. What comes later, we don’t know, and no one does.
Do you know about the Seder tradition of leaving a place set at the table for the prophet Elijah? We have faith in his eventual return at the same time we acknowledge his absence: that he may appear from the spiritual ether at any time does not mask the uneaten food and the undrunk wine. The empty chair at the table is both lament and expectation. His absence makes a very physical presence.
The presence of love, the presence of grief. The acknowledgment of both – in fact, welcoming both. Leaving the door open, allowing emptiness a place at the table.
Living through Saturday, with no expectation of return. Flailing and fighting to find your roots in the context of a loving universe, without any true knowledge of what may or may not come in the morning.
For me, this is what this season is about. Elijah’s present absence. Being Saturday people. Witnessing the rebirth of so many things, just in the turning of this globe of earth, knowing that not all things grow back.
How about you? Eostara, Passover, Easter – what does this season mean for you? Let us know in the comments.
A very beautiful reflection. I appreciate the empty plate at the table. My beloved husband is always with us at the table, his place set and honored with a candle light when we gather. It is a beautiful for our sons, myself and all who may join us that Dave has left his earthly home but will forever and always be with us.
Jelly Beans then Jelly Belly’s, for 41 years Spring and Easter meant Jelly beans in a tin by Bill’s chair. How dumb is it to cry over jelly beans? Yet here I lay crying more tears over Jelly Beans! I will go to mass on Good Friday, then service for Easter, I will observe all the traditions knowing my faith is soooo shaken I don’t know when or if it will recover. Here I sit sobbing over Jelly Beans!
Three years ago, April 7th, my 21 year old son, my Brian, died suddenly in the early morning of Holy Saturday……on Easter Sunday, his name was read during the mass….for those who have died….
It’s hard to breathe…..i miss him, I miss my boy, he is my heart
It is a beautiful reflection on the Season between Good Friday and Easter. I lost my dad in August 2016 and it hurts so deeply that sometimes I don’t know how to breathe through it. And I feel bad in my grief like I need to move on – and yet, my heart is not ready to move on.
We have an Easter celebration at my mom’s on Sunday and it will be hard. I’m not sure that anyone else will find healing in setting a space at the table – an Elijah space. So I will reflect on that privately and perhaps in my own home I will find a seat for dad. I am glad that the Saturday promised to eventually be over. I am glad that there is a promise of redemption and renewal and newness coming! I wish our Saviour did not have to go through the pain he went through – however – I recognize that through that he saved us, understands us, cares about our tears and loves us. I am grateful for the promise of eternal life. I am content in knowing that my dad lives in a pain-free and amazingly beautiful world – of which I would never pull him out of. But I miss him. Thank you for the gift of the freedom of spending time in Saturday.
This is a great post, thank you. This year, after my daughter died at 32 weeks because of an umbilical cord accident in December 2017, Easter has become about the suffering and faith of Mother Mary–something I had never truly considered before. https://ltop.blog/2018/03/30/mother-mary/
yes – something not often mentioned – the grieving mama in this story.
I really appreciate this article! My husband passed away suddenly at 34 and Easter is one of those times that brings back special memories.
https://www.google.com/amp/s/journal.thriveglobal.com/amp/p/17b102935efe
Thank you. I needed this as I’ve been feeling pretty wiped out today with a full range of emotions. A Saturday people describes it perfectly. Filled with the sense of loss (our son died by suicide 8 years ago) at the same time a sense of hope. Hard to hold both but that’s what gets me through.
Today in our Church it is Palm Sunday. My husband and I who are Orthodox Christians. My husband who passed away eighteen months ago. The suffering is something I can not begin to understand…from the Crusafixtion to the loss of all we love so deeply. Faith is a delicate word that carries the wait of the entire world. Hope is love.
Beautiful. And so true. As a grieving mother I feel this to my bones.