Waiting for God

Holy Saturday (Sabbatum Sanctum), the Saturday of Holy Week, the Great Sabbath, Black Saturday, Easter Eve. The great day of tested faith. The Akedah of Easter. The neo-orthodox holiday. The time when one finds oneself held in the wearied uncertainty and existential tension between the pillars of the Good Friday disaster and the Easter Sunday victory. The wait in the midst seems endless. The apparent absence of God is deafening. It’s limbo. It’s absolute nothingness. It’s open and empty, stripped down and elemental. A day of vanity, of meaninglessness; framed existence lacking intrinsic purpose. Very Kierkegaardian. Very Niebuhrian. The day of the year I set aside for reading Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot. One takes a deep breath but never knows when one can finally exhale.