Today's Ignatian Reflection

Holy Saturday

There is a great silence today. It is not the awesome silence of God, but the silence of death, the peace not yet of the Risen Christ, but the peace of the grave.  No matter how much we love someone, there is a peace that comes when, after a long and agonizing death, they finally breathe their last – and are “at rest.” Those who have loved and cared for them also find rest, for there is no more to be done, and that which can be done for the body – well, there is no great rush.

We western Catholics miss out on a very deep mystery when we glide over Holy Saturday, as if it were only a time when the worst is over, and we can prepare for Easter festivities. There is a time to be fallow, a time to let things be. More: there is a time to share death. At a good wake – not a basically Stoic if raucous denial of death – we can sit silently and reverently in the face of this great mystery of a person, called to share in the life of God, a god-like being walking the earth, now apparently reduced to an object, a mute form gradually beginning to sink into formlessness.

The Eastern Church maintains a more ancient tradition, commemorating the “descent into hell” of the Lord, celebrating the “turn” by a liturgy at mid-morning, in which He begins to rise, imperceptibly to us, having reached the depths of death. And then there is the faintest beginning of what will be Easter light. But for now, for this special day, the tomb must be dark, the grave well dug, the death real death for all of our deaths to be redeemed, all the traps that are our graves sprung. For this we wait in patient hope, silently sitting in the dark.

April 19th, 2014

From the Spiritual Exercises Blog

Christ: King and Victim

April 19, 2014 |

Grace: To feel shame and confusion that the Lord enters into His humiliation for my sake.

Text for Prayer: Mt 27:27-31

Reflection: “God mounts his throne to shouts of joy,” the Psalmist writes. Jesus mounts His throne on the Cross, revealing to us a new kind of king. There are indeed shouts, but these shouts from the crowd—those which had honored him when he arrived in Jerusalem—now become the shouts of jeering and humiliation from an angry mob. They want blood, and He gives them blood.

This one who is mocked is revealing in a most horrific way. The true source of his power and authority as king is the power of self-emptying love. His Heart—pierced on the Cross and enflamed for love of those who kill him—is the revelation of the depth of God’s love for us.


April 19th, 2014 | |