Hey,

I’m so grateful that Holy Saturday is a memory, not a reality. Jesus is not in the grave.

I thought of this song last night, the words of which were written by Delores Dufner. Very fitting.

O wheat whose crushing was for bread,

O bread whose breaking is for life,

O life, your seeming end is seed,

a seed for wheat, or bread and life.

O fruit whose crushing was for wine,

O wine whose flowing is for blood,

O blood, your pouring out is life,

our life in you, O fruitful vine.

O life whose crushing was for love,

O love whose spending was to death,

O death, your mourning is our joy,

full joy and birth to lasting life.