We’ve become used to the quietness where we stay, especially in the mornings. So two days ago it was a bit of a shock to hear the screeching of machinery just outside our garden. Two men were digging a hole in the pavement. Something to do with phone lines. Well, life is going on for many people through these strange and bewildering times. Things break down and need to be sorted. I’ve sometimes thought about the people we need when things go wrong with white goods or plumbing or gas/electricity supply. Are they still out there? The men with their noisy machinery were strangely reassuring.
The day after Jesus’ crucifixion would be a day of silence for any who were observant Jews. It was the Sabbath when the noise of work would be stilled unless absolutely necessary. That’s one of the reasons why this day in Holy Week is traditionally called the Day of Silence. But it goes deeper than that. It was a world without Jesus. He lay wrapped in grave clothes in a rich man’s tomb. God, it seemed, had nothing more to say through Him. Certainly His followers had nothing more to say about Him. It was all over. The Kingdom had not come.
There are legends surrounding this day. It has been suggested that Jesus descended to the place of the dead and brought salvation to all believers who were there since the beginning of time. I prefer to think of Jesus as the Gospels present Him on this day. Dead. This makes the Incarnation and his identification with humankind complete. This is the end we all share. We cannot escape this one absolute. That is something we can all agree on whether people of faith or not. We will all die.
However, into the midst of this reflection comes the words of an old hymn:
‘Be still my soul: the Lord is on thy side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide
In every change he faithful will remain.
Be still my soul: thy best, they heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.’
The worst of experiences may overwhelm us but within ourselves we have the promises of God which bring ‘strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.‘ Beneath the silence of this day in Holy Week God was working out His purpose. Jesus was dead but His work was not complete. Easter morning would show that God’s purpose moves forward through suffering and even death to bring the ultimate hope to the world.
A verse of Scripture I often read at funerals comes from Peter’s sermon on the Day of Pentecost:
‘God raised (Jesus) from the dead freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him.’ (Acts 2: 24)
Jesus was held by death but God freed Him from that cold grip. That was always the plan and nothing would stop it unfolding. And the good news for us all is that if it was impossible for death to keep its hold on Jesus then it is impossible for death to keep its hold on those who trust Him. That was at the heart of Paul’s faith:
‘We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.’ (1 Thessalonians 4: 14)
More than any other this is a day to reflect on our vulnerability but to set beside that the hope that comes to us in the promises of Jesus.
