This feels like the kind of teaching the heart only understands after it has had to sit with a stone that will not move. I appreciate the refusal to rush Holy Saturday into a lesson, because grief does not become holy by being explained quickly. Magdalene staying near the tomb feels like fidelity after control is gone. No fixing, no forcing meaning, no pretending the silence is less terrible than it is. Just love remaining where possession has ended. That is a hard kind of remembrance, and maybe the only kind that can recognize resurrection when it finally comes.
This was very well written, it was absolutely beautiful! I am so glad this popped up in my feed this early morning! What you have written here is so true. It deeply resonated with the things I have come to understand and believe!!
Oh, this notion of waiting and not doing is so anti-patriarchal, so anti-capitalistic, so anti-our culture. It’s such a sweet reminder to me that I don’t have to fix everything.
I just recently learned of the beauty of Holy Saturday. I had always held Mary Magdalene as
a Apostle though my denomination didnt and stopped talking about her after seeing Jesus in the garden. Holy Saturday was never recognized or mentioned. I recently became Episcopalian and experienced its beauty and significance. To sit vigil in our garden was a gift and increased the understanding of the mystery for me. Thank you for your beautiful words
When I teach my music history classes about J. S. Bach’s *Mass in B minor,* I always start with the *Crucifixus* movement (for reasons not wholly relevant here)—explaining that Bach makes two theological statements in that piece.
And the symbolism ***isn’t*** drops of blood or hammer blows—this is *J. S. Bach* we’re talking about—whose library contained more books on theology than on music.
The 1st theological statement is *immobility*—the repeating bass line moves only by half step (the smallest distance we have in Western music) except for the “turnaround” at the end of each phase & the beginning of the next. For 12 of the 13 variations above that bass line, those same restrictions hold with no changes—although Bach manages to find harmonic progressions within those strictures that are anything but obvious.
But the most remarkable feature of the piece occurs in the last variation: the orchestra drops out, leaving only the bass instruments and organ supporting the 4 voices. In this last variation, Bach moves from E minor to its relative major key, G major. He accomplishes this by changing the direction of the bass line *without changing the 1/2-step motion rule observed throughout* including an octave on the “turnaround”/resolution to the last chord.
How is this a theological statement?
1st, the practical considerations: the next movement *Et Resurrexit* is in D major which, key-wise, is not closely related to E minor. If Bach had done a standard move in music of his era and ended in E major instead of E minor (called the “Picardy Third”), E major is even more distant from D major. (The reasons why would take up far more room than we have here…)
However: G major **is** closely related to D major, so the transition between movements works.
The theological statement? In those few measures, Bach illustrates the mystical transformation that happens after Good Friday & during Holy Saturday, before Easter and all that that entails.
Never once in all of the many decades of my life has this ever been acknowledged, let alone described or addressed. I often wondered what happened during the gap between crucifixion & resurrection. And while i certainly didn’t sit vigil by a tomb, twice with the death of dear friends i experienced that expected leap from death back to life as usual within a few days.
This mystery I’ve wondered about since Sunday school is now a blessing & i have an aching peace i never had before & gratitude morphing into acceptance.
This feels like the kind of teaching the heart only understands after it has had to sit with a stone that will not move. I appreciate the refusal to rush Holy Saturday into a lesson, because grief does not become holy by being explained quickly. Magdalene staying near the tomb feels like fidelity after control is gone. No fixing, no forcing meaning, no pretending the silence is less terrible than it is. Just love remaining where possession has ended. That is a hard kind of remembrance, and maybe the only kind that can recognize resurrection when it finally comes.
This was very well written, it was absolutely beautiful! I am so glad this popped up in my feed this early morning! What you have written here is so true. It deeply resonated with the things I have come to understand and believe!!
Yes, let's not rush the silence or the grief. That's so important!
Oh, this notion of waiting and not doing is so anti-patriarchal, so anti-capitalistic, so anti-our culture. It’s such a sweet reminder to me that I don’t have to fix everything.
I just recently learned of the beauty of Holy Saturday. I had always held Mary Magdalene as
a Apostle though my denomination didnt and stopped talking about her after seeing Jesus in the garden. Holy Saturday was never recognized or mentioned. I recently became Episcopalian and experienced its beauty and significance. To sit vigil in our garden was a gift and increased the understanding of the mystery for me. Thank you for your beautiful words
Phenomenal work!
Never in the dozens of past Easters have I heard a message like this about the day in between. Deeply meaningful, thank you 🙏
I find much of living lies in the liminal space between death and resurrection. The waiting can be challenging.
I appreciate your comment about the hours after a diagnosis. So true.
In my old parish, you could sit vigil on Holy Saturday. You are correct that the silence is challenging.
When I teach my music history classes about J. S. Bach’s *Mass in B minor,* I always start with the *Crucifixus* movement (for reasons not wholly relevant here)—explaining that Bach makes two theological statements in that piece.
And the symbolism ***isn’t*** drops of blood or hammer blows—this is *J. S. Bach* we’re talking about—whose library contained more books on theology than on music.
The 1st theological statement is *immobility*—the repeating bass line moves only by half step (the smallest distance we have in Western music) except for the “turnaround” at the end of each phase & the beginning of the next. For 12 of the 13 variations above that bass line, those same restrictions hold with no changes—although Bach manages to find harmonic progressions within those strictures that are anything but obvious.
But the most remarkable feature of the piece occurs in the last variation: the orchestra drops out, leaving only the bass instruments and organ supporting the 4 voices. In this last variation, Bach moves from E minor to its relative major key, G major. He accomplishes this by changing the direction of the bass line *without changing the 1/2-step motion rule observed throughout* including an octave on the “turnaround”/resolution to the last chord.
How is this a theological statement?
1st, the practical considerations: the next movement *Et Resurrexit* is in D major which, key-wise, is not closely related to E minor. If Bach had done a standard move in music of his era and ended in E major instead of E minor (called the “Picardy Third”), E major is even more distant from D major. (The reasons why would take up far more room than we have here…)
However: G major **is** closely related to D major, so the transition between movements works.
The theological statement? In those few measures, Bach illustrates the mystical transformation that happens after Good Friday & during Holy Saturday, before Easter and all that that entails.
Never once in all of the many decades of my life has this ever been acknowledged, let alone described or addressed. I often wondered what happened during the gap between crucifixion & resurrection. And while i certainly didn’t sit vigil by a tomb, twice with the death of dear friends i experienced that expected leap from death back to life as usual within a few days.
This mystery I’ve wondered about since Sunday school is now a blessing & i have an aching peace i never had before & gratitude morphing into acceptance.