Silence of Saturday

How do you deal with silence?

When you have to strain to hear the still small voice of God.

Last night at the Holy Friday service, the pastor referenced words written by a Jewish prisoners at a Nazi Concentration Camp:

"I believe in the sun
even when it is not shining
And I believe in love,
even when there's no one there.
And I believe in God, 
even when he is silent."


On Saturday there was silence among Jesus' followers.  Grief hung heavy in the air.  Chaos of thoughts raced around their minds.  And they wondered, where is God in all of this?  How could the One we follow, the One who taught, healed, laughed, ate, and shared his life with us, be dead?

Most of us deal with enough grief in our lives, perhaps we'd rather the church not talk about it.  Yet, I think, our faith offers us a profound insight into grief that we thirst for.  The church offers not a solution, but an invitation.  An invitation into community.  We need not suffer alone.  We need not grieve alone.  On this Holy Saturday, I invite you to think about your faith community or the one you will be worshiping with tomorrow.  Pray for the people in the pews beside you and the pastor who will be leading the service and the choirs who will be singing and the brass that will playing.

Even when God is silence, we can trust in God, because of each other.  May that be a trace of God's grace.

Blessings~