The Tomb

Really sitting in the quiet darkness of this hospital room is almost like sitting in a Tomb. And being in a Tomb is, I'm told, like being in the Dead Heart of Jesus, on Holy Saturday.

There's an extraordinarily moving series of portraits of life in the Dead Heart of Jesus by the Monk-Guestmaster of the Trappist Monastery of the Holy Spirit in Conyers, Georgia.

Oh my. Mom just pulled out the oxygen tubing. Back in place now. Thank God.

I wonder, though, if that old Guestmaster is still living. But like Hans Urs von Balthasar, he clearly saw in our life in this world something of a lifelong Holy Saturday ... living in the Tomb with the Dead Jesus. In the Dead Heart of Jesus that is also His Sacred Heart. Finding in Death the paradoxical nurturance that is of course at the Heart of Christianity.

When Mom awakes, Mary awakes with her from her Dormition. When Mom wakes, Jesus awakes from His Sleep of Death. When Mom wakes, an Ikon of the Resurrection is placed before me.

And when she dies, an Ikon of the Death of Christ and the Dormition of Mary will be placed before me.

Hail Mary full of Grace the Lord is with thee
Blesed art thou amongst women
And blessed is the Fruit of thy womb, Jesus
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners
Now and at the hour of our death
Amen