One of the strangest experiences I have ever had was on a visit to the Big Pit Mining Museum in Blaenavon. As part of the visit you are taken on an underground tour of the disused mine. During the course of the hour or so that you are underground, the guide tells the group a little of the history, both of Big Pit itself, but also of mining in the UK.
At one point the group is asked to stop, and the guide explains how air doors are used to aid ventilation in the mine. He then explains that in days long gone these doors were operated by children as young as 5 years old. However, these tiny children had to sit by these doors in total darkness. The group is then asked to switch off the lamps on their helmets. The darkness is all encompassing. Yyou feel isolated even from the person you know is stood no more than a meter away. The guide explains that the children sat in these conditions for about 12 hours a day, and the only light they saw was from the pit ponies towing wagons of coal. The relief felt by the group once the guide says to turn lamps on again is palpable.
On Holy Saturday, the darkness of the tomb is clearly the symbol of the day. However, there are many who still work in darkness and only get glimpses of light and hope now and then. We also realise that in the darkness there are also points of light and hope, however negative a situation we are caught up in, but sometimes we need to open a door to discover that.