Even If I Make My Bed in Sheol (Holy Saturday)

Readings

  • Psalm 139

  • Romans 8:18–39

Silent Reflection

Remarks

Where can I go from your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

Psalm 139:7–8 (NIV)

In the Christian tradition I grew up in, there was never any mention of Holy Saturday. I think I can understand why. There’s not much in the Scriptural witness that seems to have anything to do with it apart from some enigmatic references in 1 Peter to Christ “proclaiming the Gospel among the dead” and “preaching to the spirits in prison.” (Whether these passages refer to the time between the crucifixion and resurrection is itself up for debate.)

What we know for sure is that Jesus descended to his own death. Beyond that, what was going on in the time between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is, I think, something we really only wonder about. But I do think what some call the Harrowing of Hell is an interesting and very worthwhile tradition to hang onto. It asks an essential question: Is anyone ever so far gone that they are beyond God’s reach, even as far gone as death?

This is where Psalm 139 comes in for me:

“Where can I go to escape you?” the Psalmist asks.

The answer? An emphatic “nowhere.” Highest heavens in the light of life or deepest Sheol in the dark of death. (Sheol, which the NIV unfortunately translates as “the depths” in verse 8, was, in Jewish thought, the destination of all who die.)

God is there at the moment of our highest achievement, the same as at the moment of our lowest despair. When everything is in its right place—formed, knitted, intricately woven—God is no more or less with us than when everything has descended into chaos at the furthest ends of the sea.

Psalm 139 is not the only place in Scripture that speaks passionately along these lines.

At the center of Romans, Paul reaches similar heights and depths in a passage most of us will be familiar with:

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

The question is not whether we know this verse. The question is to what extent have we allowed it to take root in us. There is a very long distance between our head and our heart. We can know all the data and we can absorb all the information and still be completely ignorant of this in every way that matters. We can be intellectually enlightened and still more or less in the dark.

The good news for us is, even in that darkness, God will find us. Someday our eyes will see fully, and what will they behold: nothing more or less than the love of God (and, I think, how it was there with us all along). This Holy Saturday, may we take the extended stillness and silence between the crucifixion and resurrection to let it sink in just a little bit more.

Silent Reflection

Response

  • Read Psalm 139.

  • Read Romans 8:18–39.