It is finished. Jesus has died. His body is lowered down from the cross and taken to the tomb.
On Easter Saturday we hold vigil with everyone who is grieving the loss of Christ’s presence. Those bright days of miracles and laughter, of full bellies and awakened hearts are gone. Now, there is only darkness.
Into the darkness we must go.
Gone, gone is the light.
We think: if we had just prayed right, lived right, believed hard enough, we could have raised Jesus from the dead and felt his presence once more. But this dark night dispels that illusion.
Into the darkness we must go.
Gone, gone is the light.
Before he died, Jesus told his friends he would be back. Remember what John said:
The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness has not overcome it.
Remember when Jesus said that if our children asked us for a fish, we wouldn’t give them a snake. Or if they asked for an egg, we wouldn’t give them a scorpion. He knew we would never do that and neither would his Father. God only gives good gifts. So this dark night must be a good gift, a glorious gift.
O guiding night!
O night more lovely than the dawn!
On this holy night, let us light a candle in the deep caverns of our feelings and welcome the darkness that is filled with good and glory.
O guiding night!
O night more lovely than the dawn!
O night that has united the Lover with his beloved,
transforming the beloved in her Lover.
—“Dark Night of the Soul,” St. John of the Cross
An Everyday Pilgrim 