Mary will remember and understand, the words of Simeon, “…a sword will pierce your own soul…” from the death on the cross of her Son Jesus. In face of this, there could only be one response, one space where this pain could mature: silence.
The silence that is not sterile muteness but fertile space to reach the wisdom of God’s plans. It is an inhabited silence that guards the hope of the newness that is sprouting.
There is silence on Holy Saturday because Life sleeps, and it takes an attentive ear and a heart that keeps all things to realize that life is already springing up. You just have to be silent in confidence. And wait…
Holy Saturday: It’s a day of meditation and silence. Something similar to the scene in the book of Job, when the friends who went to visit him, on seeing his condition, were speechless, astonished at his immense pain: “they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.” (Job 2:13).
Christ is in the sepulchre, he has come down to the place of the dead, to the deepest place where a person can come down. And next to Him, like his Mother Mary, is the Church, the bride. Quiet. Contemplating.
María, que vive su dolor desde la fecundidad del silencio, es imagen de la actitud cristiana en este tiempo de transición hacia la Pascua. Su silencio es fe ungida de esperanza. Calla y confía.
Mary, who lives her pain from the fruitfulness of silence, is the image of the christian attitude in this time of transition towards Easter. Her silence is faith anointed with hope. Be silent and trust.