Heading Outside to an Empty Tomb

Obviously, it was a different kind of Holy Week and Easter Week this year. There were empty pews and prayers at home. Jesus still rose, but the fanfare was missing.

On Holy Saturday, I often wonder what I’m supposed to do. It’s not as solemn as Good Friday; we’re not instructed to fast. And yet, Christ is dead and buried. There is nothing to do but wait for the Vigil and feasting to begin.

The waiting. I think that’s what I’m supposed to do on Holy Saturday. Wait for whatever happens next. That’s what the disciples were doing. Trying to get through a very different Passover. Hiding in their rooms wondering if they would be arrested next. The women waiting for the Sabbath to pass so they could prepare the body. Waiting, unsure of what to do.

That’s what a lot of us are feeling right now, at home, waiting for restrictions to lift, wondering what happens next. Does this pass and we return to normal, or has everything changed?

On Easter morning, we usually gather in large groups and celebrate boldly. But this year, I’ve been reflecting more on the earliest hours of Easter morning. Men staying inside for safety, women quietly walking to a tomb to do a necessary job, Jesus telling Mary Magdalene that she cannot touch him. We want to focus on the earth quaking and the glow of angels and the ripping of the veil, but there are so many small, mundane movements in the account of the Resurrection. Because the disciples were just human. They struggled to maintain normalcy and routine and safety in the face of the extraordinary. They didn’t know what was coming. They had hope, but they didn’t have a blueprint.

The feeling of this Long Lent continues. The waiting of Holy Saturday continues. I don’t know when we’ll get the news that the waiting is over, that the world will be different, better, now. But Christ is still risen. No restrictions or shut downs or guards at a tomb can stop that. We can rejoice in our rooms. It may not feel like a normal Easter, but the disciples didn’t think it felt like a normal Passover. Our feelings don’t stop the calendar. Our fears won’t stop the Resurrection. He is risen, and all shall be well. Alleluia!

These 40 Days

As Lent is coming to an end, it doesn’t feel like Holy Week. I am not logging hours at church. In fact, I haven’t entered a church in weeks, probably for the longest time in my life. I haven’t received any sacraments in a month. The build-up to Easter hasn’t been there, because the “long Lent” continues after Sunday.

Lent is supposed to be 40 days of penance before Easter. The word comes from Old Saxon, lentin, which means lengthen, as in the lengthening of days. In Spanish it is called Cuaresma; you can see the Latin root of this word alluding to 40. In Latin, Lent is Quadragesima, “the fortieth part.”

Forty days appears over and over again in the Bible as a time of patience, waiting, preparation, and penance. Noah and his family were on the ark for 40 days of rain and then waited 40 days before releasing the bird. Goliath challenged David for 40 days before David slew him. Moses spent 40 days on Mt. Sinai. Jesus spent 40 days fasting in the desert before beginning his ministry.

There is another, more secular, period of 40 days: quarantine. In 1377, as plague crept through Europe (after the major wave in the 1340s), Italy began keeping ships suspected of carrying disease in isolation for a period of time, 40 days. This gave time for any latent cases on board to reveal themselves and kept the port city from becoming infected. In Italian it was called quaranta giorni, “space of 40 days.” It was a period of waiting, waiting to see if the ship was infected, waiting to see if the sailors would be allowed onshore, waiting to see if disease was coming.

Now we’re effectively in quarantine too. The virus has a long incubation period, so after every interaction begins a waiting game—Was I infected? Is the disease already here? When will this period end? When does life return to normal?

This quarantine will go beyond Easter Sunday. It may go beyond 40 days. We will continue to wait, to prepare, to practice patience and penance. It is a slowed time, when doing less is called for. The days are lengthening, stretching out before us. Close your door. Travel inwardly. Wait for the Resurrection.