I didn't mention this in my post yesterday but several inches of snow fell in Chicago yesterday. And a few more fell overnight into early morning. It was snowing when I got up for morning prayers. Here is what it looks like in Chicago, snow on easter.
There were two things my Californian mother said she hated about Chicago and both had to do with weather: the humid summers and that it on occasion snowed at Easter. Of course snow on Easter is more likely when it is as early in the year as it is this year.
While I can understand my mother's complaint and I know many are ready for the snow and cold to be over with after our long winter. I find it somehow fitting that there is snow on the ground this Holy Saturday. There is always something so peaceful and solemn about a new snow. The snow today is helping me stay here waiting for the resurrection. To stay in this place between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. A waiting that is truncated by our having our Easter Vigil so early in the evening. I'd rather begin the Vigil Late so that the Easter Acclamation rings out after Midnight. But that is not how it is for a variety of reasons. So, today the snow is helping me not rush ahead, and to remember that this is all a piece: Cross and Resurrection both are quite meaningless without the other and their is a tension a space between them, a place of waiting of silence and of trembling in the face of such a holy and unbelievably powerful and yet gentle juxtaposition.