With betrayal, brutality, and scorn endured,
The Word, made failing flesh, ensured
An all-creation Sabbath was secured –
And He Himself the first to have savored.
Finally forsaken, “Tetelestai”
Echoed ‘cross the blood-soaked sky.
Behold, the veil was torn by One on high,
The work perfected with His waning sigh.
And so He joined His people on that day
Of rest, despite seeming so far away.
But only one more night would He delay,
Then rise, refreshed, to call them to the Way.
N.D. Storms 