Holy Saturday Prayer, 2017
Now what, dear God?
Now what?
Pilate has retreated to his palace.
The soldiers to their barracks, except for a few:
Guards at the tomb.
Sealed with a stone.
Where they buried my LORD.
Yes, my LORD; that’s what I said.
Can it get any worse?
My LORD, I said.
My LORD: I cried.
It’s what I believed.
It was my hope.
He was my prayer.
So, there they stand.
In their rough and ready gear.
Hardened soldiers in a troubled land:
Palestine. Filled with fear.
There they stand, relaxed, mostly.
They have a job to do.
They’re ready for it.
They can handle it.
These soldiers do their duty.
A thousand days before, and more to come, they know.
They’ve killed plenty along the way, and they know they’ll kill again.
They know how to do it, swift and hard. These Palestinians are nothing.
It’s been a long night for them.
Chilly and damp.
They’re tired. Me, too, O God.
My heart reeks with weariness.
Now what, dear God?
Now what?
