Growing up in a conservative evangelical Presbyterian Church in Northern Ireland, we had never heard of the liturgical year, much less the lectionary, without which I cannot now envisage my ministry.
Instead, our annual highlights were limited to Christmas, Easter and Harvest, with Harvest topping the charts. At Harvest you had an extra service on Monday night, which often featured a guest choir or soloists and was rounded off by a hearty Harvest Supper, or as they are wont to say in evangelical circles in Ulster, “a sumptuous supper provided by the faithful ladies”!
Suffice to say, we had not heard of Lent and if we had we immediately dismissed it as a popish aberration. We knew nothing of Maundy Thursday or Good Friday, much less Holy Saturday.
And so when I came to prepare for today`s reflection, I realised that hymns specific to the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday are few and far between. In fact, I don`t think I`ve ever sung such a hymn. So, as ever, when in doubt, consult Google, which was where I discovered this hymn, which is set to the familiar tune, O Waly Waly.
The lyrics speak for themselves but I found this background information by the author Sam Hargreaves on the website Resound Worship.
“As part of the 12 Song Challenge, we decided to write songs about some of the less covered aspects of Holy Week. I chose Holy Saturday, when the disciples were convinced that Jesus had died and all hope seemed to be lost. It is a short season in the church year we don’t give a lot of thought, but in a powerful way it mirrors our own experience of knowing Jesus and yet not yet having entered into the fullness of his resurrection of all things. I wanted intentionally not to resolve the song into Sunday, but to leave it with a sense of hopes yet to be fulfilled.”
The stone is rolled to seal the grave,
the soldiers stand to guard the door;
the years of hope, the hearts of faith,
cold as the tomb, dead as their Lord.
The tears of anger and regret,
the cock has crowed, the traitor fled;
disciples frightened and confused,
where once was peace, now only dread.
Where can they go, where can they run?
His words were true, eternal life;
yet even Christ has felt death’s sting,
sin’s curse extinguishing love’s light.
We stand with them, with the bereaved,
stand with the broken, torn and bruised;
we hold our doubts, our tears, our pain,
and, by our nails, hold to the truth.
There is a sun we cannot see,
a resurrection yet to dawn,
a hope that holds us through the night,
a path that leads to Easter morn.
© Sam Hargreaves / Resound Worship, Administered by Jubilate Hymns Ltd
As you listen to the hymn or sing it to yourself, may it be an aid to your Lenten devotions on this Holy Saturday.
Alan Kennedy
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