Holy Saturday: depression/Salome

There were some women present looking on from a distance. Among them were Mary of Magdala; Mary, the mother of James the younger and Joses; and Salome                 – Mark 15:40

 

I don’t know what I’m doing here.
Well, I do.
Mary dragged me.
What I mean is, I don’t know how I got here.

The smallest things seem so hard now.
Waking up.
Eating.
Breathing.

I see other people going about as if things are normal – going to the market, collecting water, having meals – as if the world didn’t end yesterday.
I don’t feel anything.
Except when I think of him.
Then the hurt is so heavy it feels like it’s going to crush me.
And honestly, I’d welcome that.
An ending to how I’m feeling.
Even if it ended me.
Then I could stop remembering what I’ve seen.

I saw it all happen with Mary.
Or, I should say, I was there. I couldn’t look at him on that cross.
I looked away.
I saw other things.
I saw soldiers playing dice for his clothes.

We were so sure that following him meant something.
But the largest consequence he left us with was which Roman gets the clothes off his back.

Today is Saturday. Our Sabbath. The day God rested.
Did God ever wake up?

I wouldn’t.

– Topher Mehlhoff

—Dwayne Fernandes, New Ways Ministry, April 16, 2022