Remember those old video games, the ones where you'd be playing along, dodging obstacles and racking up points, and then suddenly - bam! The screen would go black, and those two dreaded words would appear: GAME OVER. It was always a shock, no matter how many times it happened. One minute you're in the zone, and the next, it's all just...done.
In a way, that's kind of what the Christian idea of Holy Saturday feels like. It's that moment when everything seems to screech to a halt, when the story you thought you were living suddenly takes a turn you never saw coming. In the story of Jesus's followers, it must have been like the ultimate game over. The one they thought was invincible, the one they had put all their hope in, was gone. And they were left staring at a blank screen, wondering what comes next.
It's a feeling that hits a little too close to home these days, as we grapple with the rise of artificial intelligence and the looming specter of our own potential extinction. The idea that we might be moving towards our own game over, that everything we've built and dreamed could just...end. This idea is real - a survey of AI researchers found that the majority of respondents believed there is a 10 percent or greater chance that our inability to control AI will cause an existential catastrophe. It's a weight that's hard to shake
But here's the thing: as tempting as it might be to rage against the game, to demand a do-over or a cheat code, that's not how life works. There are no save points, no extra lives. There's just this one wild and precious life, this finite and messy thing we call our existence.
And maybe that's what the idea Holy Saturday is trying to teach us. That sometimes, the only way forward is through the darkness. Through the grief and the fear and the not-knowing. Through the moments when everything feels like it's ending, and we can't see a way out.
Because the truth is, being human means learning to live with the weight of our own mortality. It means staring down the GAME OVER screen and saying, "Okay. What now?" It means letting ourselves feel the full depth of our sorrow and our fear, without trying to fast-forward through the hard parts.
And yeah, it's scary. It's scary to think about our own ending, to imagine a world without us in it. But maybe, in a weird way, that's what makes our lives so precious. The fact that they're not infinite. The fact that we only get so many quarters, so many chances to leave our mark.
So on this Holy Saturday, as we sit in the shadow of the game over, let's not be afraid to feel the weight of it all. Let's not be afraid to grieve what we've lost, and what we know we'll lose. But let's also remember to look for the glimmers of light in the darkness. Let's remember to hold onto the things that matter most.
Because in the end, that's what being human is all about. It's about learning to live in the space between the levels. It's about finding meaning and beauty in the midst of uncertainty. It's about being brave enough to keep playing, even when we know the game might end.
And who knows? Maybe, just maybe, that's the secret to beating the final level in the game. Not by chasing immortality or trying to outsmart death, but by embracing our own extinction. By living each moment like it's the last coin in the slot, the last chance to leave our initials on the high score screen.
So let's take a deep breath, and let's sit with the weight of the GAME OVER. Let's feel it all - the grief, the fear, the love, the hope. And then, let's hit continue and face the next level - not because we know we'll win, but because we're brave enough to keep playing, one life at a time.
Bob, YES please keep on preaching- the Truth is hard to find nowadays with all the other things that are trying to get us to buy in.
Peace and All Good cuz,
You cuz, Drew
Posted by: Drew Perry | Monday, April 01, 2024 at 10:32 AM