I am not moved to love Thee, O my Lord,
By any longing for Thy Promised Land;
Nor by the fear of hell am I unmanned
To cease from my transgressing deed or word.
‘Tis Thou Thyself dost move me, — Thy blood poured
Upon the cross from nailed foot and hand;
And all the wounds that did Thy body brand;
And all Thy shame and bitter death’s award.

Yea, to Thy heart am I so deeply stirre
That I would love Thee were no heaven on high, —
That I would fear, were hell a tale absurd!
Such my desire, all questioning grows vain;
Though hope deny me hope I still should sigh,
And as my love is now, it should remain.
Anonymous (16th or 17th C.) Translated from the Spanish by Thomas Walsh

For Reflection:
On this Holy Saturday I enter into the tomb with Jesus. What one area of my life is most in need of resurrection? How is Jesus showing me He wants to bring this part of me “back to life?”