When I was a little girl, I found waiting to be almost unbearable. I could not wait for anything. I remember one Christmas Eve I got ready for bed at 7:30 p.m. because I couldn't stand waiting even one more minute for Christmas morning to finally arrive. (And I would be up at 4 a.m., under the tree to see what Santa brought.) As a teen, I snuck into my mom's closet where the Christmas gifts were hidden to see what she had gotten me - couldn't wait until Christmas Day. When I sent off for stuff you could buy from the back of cereal boxes (dolls, decoder rings, whatever), I checked the mail daily from the first day I mailed in my box tops. I just was not a good waiter.
Today is a day of waiting. Jesus is in the tomb, after all the chaotic events of Friday, and we are supposed to be waiting. Most of us are not. Altar guilds and flower guilds are working like mad today; clergy are writing sermons; deacons are practicing the Exultet. People are shopping for groceries for the big Easter meal or for last minute Easter wear or for stuff to take on Spring Break. There are chocolate bunnies and jelly beans to be bought and it's time to plant spring annuals. On this day of waiting with Jesus in the tomb, people are as busy as they always are on any Saturday. And this year, a beautiful, warm spring Saturday at that - a good day to go outside and hang Easter eggs on trees.
We don't wait well in this day and age. We don't wait well for the computer to reboot or web pages to load or stuff to download; we don't wait well for our food to come at a "slow" restaurant; we don't wait well at the airport when flights are late or cancelled or in lines or at the grocery store when the checkout person is slow. If "all good things come to those who wait," then we don't get much good stuff. Or maybe we get so-so stuff if we wait, but do not wait well.
But wait we must for things to happen when they will happen. Not only can you not hurry love, as the Supremes sang, but you can't hurry wisdom, or patience, or growth, or resurrection.