On Holy Saturday, when believers find ourselves in the liminal space of “Yes! And, not yet!” we have a tradition of gathering for a great vigil. With the elements of fire and water to accompany us, we allow the grief and unknowing of the moment to take refuge in the company of the communion of saints, as we, together, nestle into the great wonder and mystery of God.
It is in this tender moment when we retell the stories of our faith that remind us that it is God who created us into being! It is God who parted the seas and liberated her people! It is God who breathed new life into dry bones! It is God who saved Daniel in the den!
It is God who is the great, creative wonder of the universe that raised Christ from death to life!
We locate ourselves in this narrative not simply as a tonic for our temporary woes. We locate ourselves in this great narrative to settle into the truth of God’s reign, which is from everlasting to everlasting.
Throughout God’s narrative, there have been kings and rulers and presidents — some great and some greedy. And, none of them are the saviors of the world; that is Christ alone.
We should not seek to find Christ in Caesar’s palace — Christ has not and will never reside there.
Christ resides with the poor and the desolate. Christ marches in the uprisings for Black lives. Christ huddles with the caged children in their cells. Christ tends to the under-employed and uninsured. Christ dwells with those without house or home.
It is there we will find Christ in the world — where we will find real truth and hope and purpose.
This neither dismisses our duty to vote nor our strong calling to participate in the systems that govern our daily lives — those are acts of Christian love that seek to ensure that the Christian values of radical love and justice are embodied in those systems which have so much responsibility and power over God’s people — the very people with whom Christ resides.
Embedding ourselves in the great narrative of God and reminding ourselves of Christ’s presence in the world is a practice not meant to admonish our actions but to ground them.
No matter the queen or ruler or president who resides in Caesar’s palace, “Our soul waits for the Lord; they are our help and shield. Our heart is glad in them, because we trust in their holy name. Let your steadfast love, O God, be upon us, even as we hope in you.” (Psalm 30:20-22)
“The Art of Enduring, For Holy Saturday” by Jan Richardson
This blessing
can wait as long
as you can.
Longer.
This blessing
began eons ago
and knows the art
of enduring.
This blessing
has passed
through ages
and generations,
witnessed the turning
of centuries,
weathered the spiraling
of history.
This blessing
is in no rush.
This blessing
will plant itself
by your door.
This blessing
will keep vigil
and chant prayers.
This blessing
will bring a friend
for company.
This blessing
will pack a lunch
and a thermos
of coffee.
This blessing
will bide
its sweet time
until it hears
the beginning
of breath,
the stirring
of limbs,
the stretching,
reaching,
rising
of what had lain
dead within you
and is ready
to return.
Amanda Gerken-Nelson (she/her/hers) — Amanda has not missed participating in an election since turning 18. Amanda gives thanks to her elders and comrades who have paved the paths for her right to vote, for agency over her body, to live publicly out, to be legally married, and to start a family.