Holy Saturday
- Admin
- Apr 12
- 4 min read
Saturday 11th April 2026 - 10pm
Good Shepherd Chapel, Abbotsford
We arrived to a dimmed church, where a single light illuminated the altar. In that quiet space, Metropolitan Raffaele and Father Mark began chanting the Evening Hours, recounting the mystery of Christ’s descent into death and the promise of Resurrection.
The prayers unfolded slowly, carrying us through the final moments of Holy Saturday. After a time, the Kyrie was sung, and the chanting continued. Metropolitan Raffaele prayed for those who had departed this life, reading aloud the names of members of our community who had fallen asleep in the Lord, as the altar was gently incensed.
The clergy then moved to the Epitaphios, resting in the centre of the church. Father Mark carefully removed the basil and rose petals, while Metropolitan Raffaele chanted solemn prayers. Once prepared, the Epitaphios was reverently returned to the altar, and the Gospel book and Cross were placed upon it. The altar was incensed once more, sealing the final moments of Christ’s burial.
The church darkened further as we entered into the stillness of waiting. Metropolitan Raffaele reminded us that death does not have the final word, and that the Lord comes to those who call upon Him. The congregation sat in silence as the remaining lights were slowly extinguished.
Then, from the darkness, incense rose to the sound of bells. The servers lit the candles around the altar and the Trikiminon was lit. We all lit our candles from the Metropolitan’s three-pronged wick.
We moved outside. The Gospel from St Matthew was proclaimed. The church doors were struck thrice with Metropolitan Raffaele’s staff, and with a great sound they opened.
We entered once more into the church — now filled with light.
“Christ is Risen.”
The proclamation rang out, accompanied by song, light, and even the joy of fireworks. The darkness had given way to life.
The liturgy began as Reader Patrick read from the Acts of the Apostles, describing the life of the early Church now born from the Resurrection.
Metropolitan Raffaele then proclaimed the Gospel from St John: “In the beginning was the Word…” — a reminder that the One who rose is the same eternal Word through whom all things were made.
In his homily, Metropolitan Raffaele reflected on the journey of Holy Week — from suffering to glory. Earlier that day, he had visited the cemetery and was struck by the sight of neglected graves. He placed palms upon them, a quiet act of remembrance and love.
He spoke of the folded cloth in the Resurrection account — a detail rich with meaning. In the custom of the time, a crumpled cloth meant the master had finished, but a folded cloth meant: “I will return.” Even in the tomb, Christ’s folded garments speak of His return and His promise.
The Metropolitan reflected on the disciples walking in sorrow, carrying only memories of what had been. When we lose someone, he said, we often cling to memories — yet Christ meets us in that grief. Like the stranger on the road, He walks beside us, enters into our confusion, and reveals Himself in the breaking of the bread.
He then pondered ‘why Jerusalem? why the Middle East?’ Metropolitan Raffaele explained that in a world often marked by chaos, conflict, and uncertainty, God comes precisely into those places — not to abandon them, but to heal them.
Metropolitan Raffaele reminded us that Lent brings trials, moments of darkness and doubt. Yet we are called to anchor ourselves in Christ. Just as He grasped and lifted Peter when he began to sink, so too does He reach out to us — even descending into the depths to lift those in darkness.
The liturgy continued as the names of the departed were once again remembered in prayer. The gifts were brought forward, and the Creed was proclaimed. The Sanctus was sung, and the gifts were blessed and transfigured in a moment of profound beauty and harmony.
We honoured the Theotokos with the Hail Mary, as the lights softened to blue and the hymn was sung. The Our Father followed, and the Agnus Dei accompanied the preparation of Holy Communion.
The clergy received first, followed by the faithful. As Metropolitan Raffaele sang, the church was filled with a sense of quiet joy — the joy of Resurrection now present among us.
A Thanksgiving Hymn was sung as the sacred gifts were returned. The celebration continued with the blessing of the eggs — a symbol of new life. The egg, once sealed and lifeless, is broken open, just as the tomb was shattered by Christ’s rising.
Metropolitan Raffaele’s reprise of “Christ is Risen” brought us renewed joy. He shared the story of Mary Magdalene, who proclaimed the Resurrection even before the emperor. According to tradition, when she declared “Christ is risen,” the egg before her turned blood red — a sign of life, sacrifice, and victory.
The eggs were blessed, and the joyful tradition of sharing and breaking them together began — a simple, playful expression of the Resurrection. The liturgy concluded with a final hymn, the church now radiant with light and life. Father Mark played joyous music from the organ, accompanied by Andrew’s amazing light show.
From silence to song, from darkness to light, from death to life — the journey was complete. The community gathered afterward for agape, sharing food, laughter, and the joy of being together. Thanks to Andrew and his team from Xtreme Entertainment for providing the lighting and sound.
Christ is Risen. Truly He is Risen.
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