Holy Saturday

By Fr. Conor Donnelly

(Proofread)

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My Lord and my God, I firmly believe that you are here, that you see me, that you hear me. I adore you with profound reverence. I ask your pardon for my sins and grace to make this time of prayer fruitful. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

On Holy Saturday, the Church is silent. Christ has been taken down from the Cross. The Church is in mourning. There are no liturgical ceremonies today, anywhere. No Masses, no benedictions, because the Church is silent, because Christ is dead.

In this way, the Church remembers and reminds us of the Crucifixion, of the Redemption. We go to the great spiritual mysteries through physical signs and symbols.

This emptiness of the Church, this silence of the Church, has its message for us. It transmits to us the mourning for the death of Christ. You could say that the Church is in mourning, the Apostles are mourning, Mary is also mourning.

At the same time, in this silence, in this mourning, there's a great air of expectancy, because throughout Holy Saturday, we're waiting for the great miracle of the Resurrection; the high point in the whole of human history, where Christ is going to overcome death and overcome sin and overcome the devil, and give rise to a great hope and optimism.

With that, the words of Christ on the Cross are going to be fulfilled: “It is accomplished” (John 19:30). Christ will have won all the graces that are necessary for all the sacraments for all time.

In some senses, you can say that Christ has achieved everything. With that, all we have to do is to be faithful. Two thousand years later, we have all the graces that Christ has won. We just have to struggle and be faithful and try to be holy.

On this day of silence, this day of emptiness, the one focus of the Church is on Our Lady. She keeps the faith of the Church going on Holy Saturday. The Apostles have faded away, but she tries to keep them together. She's the one ray of hope, one ray of light in the whole horizon.

That's why throughout the history of the Church, Saturday has always been seen as Our Lady's Day.

Mary is the Co-Redemptrix. She's the Co-Redeemer with her Son. She has stood beside the Cross and a sword has pierced her heart. She understands and she suffers. Her Son can no longer feel, but she can.

And so, to the very end, the prophecy of Simeon is fulfilled: “Your own soul, a sword will pierce” (Luke 2:35).

We have this strange mixture in Our Lady these days of pain, of sorrow, of loss, but yet faith and expectancy.

They lower Christ from the Cross with love and veneration. With great care, they lay Him in the arms of His Mother. Although His Body is all wounded, His countenance is serene and majestic.

We can slowly gaze with piety at the face of Jesus, as Our Lady would have done.

Not only has He ransomed us from sin and death, but He has taught us to put the will of God above all personal plans, to live detached from everything, to know how to pardon, even when the offender has not repented, to know how to forgive others, to be apostles until the very moment of death, to suffer without sterile lament, to love men, although one is suffering because of them.

We’re told in The Way: “Don't hinder the work of the Paraclete: seek union with Christ so as to be purified, and feel with him the insults, the spitting, the blows, and the thorns, and the weight of the Cross..., and the nails tearing through the flesh, and the agony of a forsaken death. And enter through Our Lord's open side until you find sure refuge there in his wounded heart” (Josemaría Escrivá, The Way, Point 58). There we will find our peace.

Let us look at Jesus slowly, and in the intimacy of our hearts say to Him: Kind Jesus, hear my prayer!

In the Act of Thanksgiving after Mass in the Roman Missal, we're told, “Hide me within your wounds, and keep me close to you. Defend me from the evil enemy. Call me at my death to the fellowship of your saints, that I may sing your praise with them through all eternity.”

Joseph of Arimathea was a rich man, a disciple of Jesus, with influence in the Sanhedrin, who has remained hidden while Our Lord is acclaimed throughout Palestine. But now he presents himself to Pilate to take charge of the Body of Jesus.

That must have taken a lot of courage because we know Pilate was a butcher. He could have turned on Joseph of Arimathea.

He could have done anything.

Luis de la Palma says that Joseph is willing to ask “for the greatest demand that has ever been made—the Body of Jesus, the Son of God, the treasure of the Church, its riches, its teaching and exemplar, its consolation, the Bread which will sustain one until life eternal. In that moment, with his petition, Joseph represents the desires of all men, of the whole Church, which needs Jesus to keep eternally alive” (Luis de la Palma, The Passion of the Lord).

In this disconcerting period, when all the disciples except John have fled, another disciple of great social standing, who has not been present in the triumphant hours, now comes forward.

We're told, “With him comes Nicodemus, the same who earlier visited Jesus by night; he brings with him a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pounds weight” (John 19:39).

Our Lady must have been very grateful for the help of these two men; for their generosity, their courage, their piety.

The small group which, with Our Lady and the women who receive no special mention in the Gospel, takes charge of burying the Body of Jesus, have little time because of the following day's feast. That's going to begin at the sunset of this particular day.

The body is washed with special piety. It is embalmed. The amount of sweet-smelling herbs which Nicodemus bought is considerable, “about a hundred pounds in weight.” It is wrapped in a new linen shroud supplied by Joseph (Mark 15:46), and it is laid in a sepulcher hewn out of a rock.

The sepulcher belonged to Joseph, and we know it had not previously been used (cf. Matt. 27:60).

The Body of Christ is laid in the tomb. The world was in darkness. Mary was the only light still burning on earth.

We’re told in The Way of the Cross: “The Mother of Our Lord—my Mother—and the women who have followed the Master from Galilee, after taking careful note of everything, also take their leave. Night falls. Now it is all over. The work of our Redemption has been accomplished. We are now children of God, because Jesus has died for us, and his death has ransomed us. Empti enim estis pretio magno! (1 Cor. 6:20), you and I have been bought at a great price” (J. Escrivá, The Way of the Cross, Fourteenth Station–Jesus is laid in the tomb).

I heard a story many years ago of a man in another country who used to buy supplies for a very big organization, and he had a foreign supplier who offered him a huge bribe, a six-figure sum that was going to go directly into his bank account.

Nobody would know. But this man, who tried to lead a plan of life, who did spiritual reading every day, who did a period of prayer, who tried to do apostolate, said no.

The foreign supplier was a bit surprised, because he'd never been refused before, and also this was a very large sum of money. So the supplier said to this man, ‘OK,’ he said, ‘but I will find your price, because every man has his price.’

While he was driving home that night, this man was thinking to himself, ‘I wonder if it's true that every man has his price. And if it's true, well, I wonder what my price is, because I've just refused such a huge amount of money.’

When he got home each evening, he had the custom of reading a few passages from the New Testament, sometimes a chapter, sometimes a phrase or two, sometimes a word. He opened his New Testament, and the book fell open at the First Letter of St. Peter, Chapter 1, Verse 18.

And he read: “You know, you are redeemed from your vain manner of life, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb, without blemish and without spot.”

He thought to himself, ‘Ah, this is my price. I have been redeemed at a great price. What a fool I would be to sell my soul for anything less.’

The Way of the Cross continues. “We must bring into our own life, to make them our own, the life and death of Christ. We must die through mortification and penance, so that Christ may live in us through love. And then follow in the footsteps of Christ, with a zeal to co-redeem all mankind. We must give our life for others. That is the only way to live the life of Jesus Christ and to become one and the same thing with him.”

Christ on the Cross—what's He thinking about? What's He dreaming about? He's thinking and dreaming about souls, because that's why He died.

These are good moments to try and foster in our soul that zeal to co-redeem all mankind, to try and fashion our hearts after the heart of Christ that yearns for souls.

When we go to our prayer, those are very special moments to talk to Our Lord about souls. There must be nothing else that Our Lord yearns for us to talk to him about than souls: people that we're involving ourselves with, people whose spiritual welfare we're concerned about, asking Him for this soul, for that soul, for this conversation, for that conversation, for this friend, for that friend; how to keep all our contacts warm so that we keep very close to all of our friends.

We don't know where the Apostles were on that evening while the Body of Christ was buried. All we know is that they weren't around. Perhaps they were hovering around, disoriented, confused, aimless, distraught, filled with sadness. That's how people are when they lose sight of Christ.

If we see them together again on Sunday, united once more (cf. Luke 24:9), it's because on Saturday, or perhaps on the evening on Friday, they had turned to Our Lady. With her faith, her hope, and her love, she protected the pre-born or about-to-be-born Church, still weak and startled.

It's a reminder to us, as Our Lady took care of and nurtured that pre-born Church or about-to-be-born Church, what we also have to do for the pre-born. It reminds us of how Pope St. John Paul II in the Gospel of Life tells us, that we have “to be unconditionally pro-life" (John Paul II, Encyclical, Evangelium Vitae, March 25, 1995).

This was how the Church was born, under the cloak of Our Lady. From the very beginning, she has been the Comforter of the afflicted, of those under pressure. How relevant and appropriate it is that Pope Francis has approved for inclusion in the Litany of Loreto that aspiration, “Comforter of migrants” as though this moment in time, Our Lady wants to place her cloak through each one of us, around all those people who have to flee, who are under pressure or going through a difficult moment, so that we help them to look forward to the future in faith and hope.

This Saturday, when everyone fulfilled the festival day of rest as the law required (Luke 23:56), it was perhaps not a completely sad day for Our Lady, because her Son had stopped suffering.

There's a new peace as she looks forward to the future. She serenely awaits the moment of the Resurrection.

That may have been the reason why she did not accompany the holy women who went to embalm the dead Body of Jesus, because “Mary has kept all these things carefully in her heart” (Luke 2:19, 51).

Somehow, she knows what's coming. She has a deeper understanding of all the words of her Son.

We ought always to have immediate resort to that endlessly burning light in our lives, which is Our Lady. And even more so, if on some occasion we have lost Christ, we have left Him and found ourselves to be lost, having abandoned sacrifice and the Cross just as the Apostles did, we’re in good company.

But she will bring us back to hope, and she will bring hope back to us.

St. John Damascene says: “Our Lady is rest for those who work, consolation for those who weep, medicine for the sick, a harbor for those assailed by tempests, pardon for sinners, sweet relief for the sad, succor for those who implore.”

Beside her we are able to live the immense joy of the Resurrection.

We are told in St. John, “Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother's sister, Mary of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene” (John 19:25).

These women are standing; they are full of strength. They haven't run away. It makes us look to the women in difficult moments. Women stand beside the cross. They are not leaning up against the cross or complaining about the cross, or running away from the cross.

It's a reminder to us that “joy and happiness in this world have their roots in the form of a cross” (J. Escrivá, Christ Is Passing By, Point 43).

“When Jesus therefore saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing by, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, behold your son’” (John 19:26).

It might have been easier for Our Lord if Our Lady had not been there, not having to witness this butchery. But Our Lord has to endure everything, and so His mother has also to be present. He chooses this moment to give us and the whole of humanity to Our Lady as Our Mother.

“Woman, behold your child.” Look at your child and never stop looking at your child.

We know that in all the moments of our life—in moments of failure, low moments, difficult moments, challenging moments—Our Lady is always looking at us, looking at us in a special way, because that's what her Son asked her to do in His dying moments: “Look at your child.” Look at your child and never stop looking at your child.

There were many other maternal moments in Our Lord's life in Bethlehem, in Nazareth, in Egypt, when Our Lord could have opened His eyes and said, “Look at your Mother.”

But He chose us this moment, when His side has been pierced by a lance and when her heart has been pierced by a spiritual sword. as though telling us that in all the difficult moments of our life, Our Mother is there for us.

"Then he said to the disciple, ‘Behold your mother’” (John 19:27a).

“Look at your Mother.” He turns to the whole of humanity and tells humanity to look at Our Lady and never stop looking at her.

On this Holy Saturday we could think about our Marian piety—how to make every Saturday in our life special—perhaps praying the Hail Holy Queen on that particular day, or making a visit to a shrine of hers, or helping our family to be a little bit more aware of Our Lady as her day on Saturdays, so they grow up with this great awareness of Mary on Saturday, or possibly saying her Rosary as a family—some little thing that marks out this day in some special way.

Venerable Fulton Sheen liked to say that he always, throughout the whole of his life, tried to say the Mass of Our Lady on Saturdays, as a reflection of his own personal devotion. Many saints have done similar things.

“From that hour the disciple took her into his home” (John 19:27b).

St. John was entrusted with the care of Our Lady. Blessed Álvaro liked to say that St. John is the one that speaks most about charity in his Gospel, and it's to him that the care of Our Lady was entrusted. He makes this parallel that from the extra exposure that St. John has to Our Lady, he writes more about love in his Gospel.

You can also imagine, as St. John Paul has mentioned, how during that time when she was in the home of St. John, he must have celebrated Mass. Our Lady would have been present at the Masses of St. John. She would have received the Body of Christ from his hands in those Masses.

With what fervor would Our Lady have received the Body of her Son! Each one was like a reliving of the moment of the Annunciation, when she said, “Be it done unto me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).

Now all the tough moments have passed. Mary receives her Son with a special intimacy, a special piety, special solemnity. In our Thanksgiving after Mass, we could try and be mindful of those Communions of Our Lady.

“After this, knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the Scripture might be fulfilled, he said, ‘I thirst’” (John 19:28).

Our Lord was not just thirsting for physical, material liquid or fluid, but he was thirsting for souls. The Passion and the Redemption are all about souls. The Cross is all about souls.

When we offer up the little crosses of each day, or the big crosses of our life, for souls, they become easier to bear. We find a great apostolic purpose in saying yes to the crosses that God permits in our life.

“Now, there was standing there, a vessel full of common wine. And having put a sponge soaked with the wine on a stalk of hyssop, they put it to his mouth. Therefore, when Jesus had taken the wine, he said, ‘It is accomplished.’ And bowing his head, he gave up his spirit” (John 19:29-30).

It's a reminder to us what death is all about. It's a separation of the body from the soul. Christ's Body was on the Cross. It's going to be taken down and laid in a tomb.

But the Creed is telling us that His soul descended into hell. It was not the hell of the damned, not possibly the hell like purgatory or limbo, where souls were waiting for the opening of the gates of heaven are placed.

A place close to hell where He shows His dominion over the devil that He has conquered, and a place where He gives hope to those souls that are waiting. His soul is very active as His Body is placed in the tomb.

“The Jews, therefore, since it was the preparation day, in order that the bodies might not remain on the cross on the Sabbath (for the Sabbath was a solemn day), they besought Pilate that their legs might be broken and that they might be taken away.” They try to find a way to hasten death.

“They therefore came and broke the legs of the first and of the other who had been crucified with him. But when they came to Jesus and saw that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. But one of the soldiers opened his side with a lance and immediately there came out blood and water” (John 19:31-34).

Some of the saints in history have liked to call this a Fons Vitae, a fountain of life, a fountain of the sacramental life of the Church.

All the graces that are needed to wash away our sins flow from the wounded side of Christ. All the graces that mankind will ever need for the whole of eternity flowed from that wounded side. It is a very significant wound.

"He who saw it has borne witness—that his witness is true, and he knows that he tells the truth, that you also may believe” (John 19:35).

St. John makes particular mention of the witness that is given to this particular event. “He who has seen it has borne witness.” So this is something special, not to go unnoticed; an event, a wound that has great significance for all time.

“For these things came to pass that the Scripture might be fulfilled: ‘Not a bone of him shall be broken.’ And again, another Scripture says, ‘They shall look upon him whom they have pierced’” (John 19:36-37).

A couple of years ago Pope Benedict suggested as a motto for the whole of Lent, to take this phrase of Scripture, “They shall look upon him whom they have pierced” (Message of Pope Benedict XVI for Lent 2007) as though inviting us to contemplate the wounds of Christ.

This is a good day to contemplate Christ on the Cross, or the dead Christ being taken down from the Cross.

We contemplate in order to see, and each year there are new lights for us to see new things.

“Now after these things Joseph of Arimathea, because he was a disciple of Jesus, although for fear of the Jews a secret one, besought Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus, and Pilate gave permission. He came therefore and took away the body of Jesus. And there also came Nicodemus, who at first had come to Jesus by night, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, in weight about a hundred pounds. They therefore took the body of Jesus and wrapped it in linen clothes and spices, after the Jewish manner of preparing for burial. Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid. There accordingly, because of the preparation day of the Jews, for the tomb was close at hand, they laid Jesus” (John 19:38-42).

And so the story of the Passion ends. It ends with the end of suffering, with the conquering of sin, of death, of the devil, and now the Church looks forward in hope and excitement, for that moment when the darkness will be dispelled, a new light, signified by the Easter candle, is going to be lit on the earth.

A new light for our minds, for our hearts: Christ is the true light, who will never be taken away. Walk while you have the light. So for the moment, we walk beside Our Lady, the light of Holy Saturday, who is going to give way to the true light, which will last forever.

I thank you, my God, for the good resolutions, affections, and inspirations that you have communicated to me during this meditation. I ask your help to put them into practice. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

GD