Waiting

Before I knew what Holy Saturday was about--Jesus descending into Hell--I always found it oddly placed in the Triduum. It was as if there was nothing to do but sit and wait for Easter to come.

While I may know better now, the waiting doesn't change. It is too late to go back and undo the events of Good Friday. We nailed Christ to the cross, killed him there, and stuck a spear in His side just to be sure. He has died, and for today, that cannot be changed.

That same realization comes before the Easter Vigil Mass this evening, when we discover the tabernacle left open and empty. The altar is bare and the Church mostly undecorated. The lights are off.

I remember particularly tonight the words the priest says after every Our Father we say at Mass:

Deliver us, Lord, from every evil, and grant us peace in our day. In your mercy, keep us safe from sin, and protect us from all anxiety as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

Tomorrow, He will rise again, destroying our death in His new life. Bells will ring out all over the world, signaling the end of the most intensely solemn season of the liturgical year.

It was too long this year. I'll only be at ease when I can sing the Gloria, and know in my heart that Christ has been and will be triumphant.

Until then, I'll wait.