Holy Saturday, the liminal day nestled between the crucifixion of Good Friday and the resurrection of Easter Sunday, occupies a unique theological space in the Christian narrative.
It is a day of waiting, of silence, of uncertainty—a day that resists the linear progression from death to life and invites believers to dwell in the tension of the “in-between.”
For us Goan Christians, whose identity is shaped by a complex interplay of Indian, Portuguese, and global influences, Holy Saturday offers a profound lens through which to theologize our Goan-ness as a third space—a hybrid, transitional identity that mirrors the theological richness of this sacred day.
Drawing on Jürgen Moltmann’s Theology of Hope and the concept of third space articulated by postcolonial theorist Homi K. Bhabha, let us explore how Holy Saturday’s in-betweenness resonates with the Goan Christian experience, opening new possibilities for understanding faith, identity, and hope.
Holy Saturday is often overlooked in Christian liturgy, overshadowed by the drama of Good Friday and the triumph of Easter Sunday. Yet, as theologians like Alan E. Lewis and Shelly Rambo argue, it is a day of profound theological significance.
Lewis, in Between Cross and Resurrection: A Theology of Holy Saturday, describes it as a “liturgically sparse time of reflection,” a moment when the church waits at the tomb, meditating on Christ’s death and descent into hell .
Rambo, in Spirit and Trauma: A Theology of Remaining, critiques the tendency to rush from crucifixion to resurrection, noting that Holy Saturday resists such linear narratives. Instead, it holds space for pain, loss, and uncertainty, offering a theology of “remaining” that acknowledges the reality of suffering without glossing over it Derrida’s position that thinks everything in the coming can be also seen a Holy Saturday awaiting for the glory of Ressurection.
Jürgen Moltmann’s Theology of Hope provides a framework for understanding Holy Saturday’s in-betweenness. Moltmann emphasizes hope as an active, eschatological force that looks forward to God’s future while engaging with the present. He writes, “Hope is nothing else than the expectation of those things which faith has believed to have been truly promised by God” (Theology of Hope, 1967).
On Holy Saturday, this hope is not yet realized; it exists in tension with the silence of the tomb. The disciples, grieving and disoriented, embody a hope that is both fragile and resilient, rooted in the promise of resurrection yet marked by the absence of certainty. Hence a synodal Church that is walking with lord cannot dismiss the role and importance of Holy Saturday
This tension mirrors the Goan Christian experience, where identity is forged in the interplay of tradition and transition, rootedness and displacement.
Goan Christian identity is a tapestry woven from diverse threads: the indigenous Konkani culture, the legacy of Portuguese colonialism, and the global diaspora that has scattered Goans across the world. This hybridity aligns with Homi K. Bhabha’s concept of the “third space,” a liminal zone where cultural identities are negotiated, producing new meanings that transcend binary oppositions (e.g., colonizer/colonized, East/West).
For Goan Christians, this third space is evident in their syncretic practices—blending Catholic rituals with local traditions and language yet remain open other influences.
.The Goan Christian experience is one of constant transition. The Portuguese colonial period (1510–1961) introduced social, religious, and cultural landscapes that has put Goan in this dynamic mode being in-between.
While many Goans embraced Catholicism other embraced western cultural codes of dressing and education, but everyone retained elements of their pre-portuguese heritage, creating a distinct identity that was neither wholly ‘Indian nor wholly Portuguese’.
Post-liberation in 1961, Goans faced new questions of belonging within the Indian nation-state, while the diaspora—spanning East Africa, the Gulf, Europe, and North America—further complicated notions of home and identity especiallyfor the Catholics.
This perpetual “in-betweenness” positions especially Goan Christians in a third space, where they navigate the tensions of tradition and modernity, local and global, rootedness and mobility.
Holy Saturday’s theology of transition resonates deeply with the Goan experience and Goan Catholics can certainlyidentifywith it . Just as Holy Saturday is a day of waiting—poised between despair and hope, death and life—Goan Christian identity may be thought as exists in a state of dynamic tension today. Goan diaspora with its home away dynamics is living a Holy Saturday very profoundly. We Goans have this challenge to thrologize Goan life as a pilgrimage of hope lived in a liminal third space.
On Holy Saturday, the silence of Christ’s tomb is not empty but pregnant with meaning. It is a space where the trauma of the cross coexists with the anticipation of resurrection. Similarly, Goan Christian identity occupies a silent yet potent space between cultural narratives. The legacy of Portuguese colonialism, often raised to memory current politics threatening a cultural erasure, parallels the trauma of the cross.
Yet, the fact that Goans have transformed their historical trauma into a creative third space, and invented decolonial Gosn-ness and led a susegado exuberant life becomes a great resource to pass through the new periodic assault by the right-wing. Proactive Goaness is of great value than a reactive Hindutva driven by a a sense of victimhood of the past. Such postcolonial formations often mimic imperial practices of the colonial masters that they purport to fight.
Holy Saturday invites Goan Christians to embrace the hybridity of Goan-ness as a theological virtue, recognizing that their identity, like the tomb, is a site of both loss and potential.
Moltmann’s theology of hope emphasizes the eschatological promise that sustains believers in the face of uncertainty. On Holy Saturday, the disciples waited without knowing the outcome, their hope rooted in faith rather than certainty. Goan Christians, particularly in the diaspora, embody this hopeful waiting. Scattered across the globe, they navigate the tension of belonging to multiple worlds—Goa as an ancestral homeland, India as a national identity, and foreign lands as places of opportunity. This diasporic existence mirrors the liminality of Holy Saturday, where the future is uncertain yet charged with possibility.
The Goan Christian diaspora’s vibrant faith—expressed through novenas, feast days, and community associations—reflects a Moltmannian hope that trusts in God’s promise of a new creation, even in the midst of displacement.
The doctrine of Christ’s descent into hell on Holy Saturday, as articulated in the Apostles’ Creed, signifies his solidarity with the dead and his triumph over death . For Goan Christians, this descent resonates with the postcolonial task of reconciling with a complex past.as well as politics of outsidering played subtly in our society
The Holy Saturday’s theology of descent invites Goans to enter the “hell” of trauma of the past and alienation of the present —not to dwell in resentment but to redeem it through forgiveness and creativity.
The third space of Goan-ness emerges as a site of reconciliation, where the wounds of the past and pains of the present are negotiated and sought therapy.
The Easter Vigil, which begins on Holy Saturday night, marks the transition from darkness to light, culminating in the proclamation of Christ’s resurrection In Goan Christian communities, the vigil is a moment of communal celebration, with churches adorned with flowers and candles, and the Exsultet sung with fervor. This liturgical moment mirrors the joy of Goan-ness, where faith is expressed through a blend of Catholic and local traditions. Indeed , it is also an opportunity to theologizing Goan-ness that is hoping to flower and bloom to reach the grace of ressurection.
Looking at Holy Saturday as a day of in-betweenness, Goan Christians can theologize their identity as a third space—a dynamic, hopeful negotiation of past and future, local and global, tradition and innovation.
Jürgen Moltmann’s Theology of Hope reminds us that hope is not passive but active, engaging with the present while anticipating God’s future. For Goans , this hope manifests in their ability to embrace hybridity, navigate displacement, and redeem history through faith, and creative genius of Goan-ness.
.As wr stand on the eve of Easter, we are called to dwell in the liminality of Holy Saturday—not rushing to the triumph of resurrection but honoring the silence, the waiting, and the uncertainty.
In this space, th Goan-ness becomes a theological witness to the power of hope, a testament to the God who meets us in the in-between what may be called middle of life where all things are made new in Christ.
Just as the tomb on Holy Saturday is both a place of death and a womb of life, so too is Goan Christian identity a third space where pain and possibility coexist, pointing toward the dawn of Easter .
