On this night, brothers and sisters, let us allow the women of the Gospel to lead us by the hand, so that, with them, we may glimpse the first rays of the dawn of God’s life rising in the darkness of our world.

Holy Saturday can feel like the sleepless night-before-Christmas of the Triduum. But it can be a meaningful part of Easter—and not just a time to dye eggs or make tomorrow’s dessert.

In preaching Christ crucified, the church reveals both our guilt and our redemption. A love that cannot step free of self eventually kills what it loves.

We have always wanted to be God, to claim the right of truth, to receive and not to give. Yet on this night, Jesus pours it all away, our very understanding of God, over our feet and into a basin to be pitched.

In so many of our resurrection accounts it is the voice, not the face, that reveals the presence of the living, resurrected Christ.

“The Jews” didn’t kill Jesus. And if the Gospel of John makes people think that, we should read a different Gospel on Good Friday.