Today is Holy Saturday.

It is a day in the church year marked by somber, silent waiting. A day when we are invited to live fully into the sorrow of the death of Christ. A day to feel the absence of Jesus and the loneliness this brings.

On this day, the Sabbath day, we rest. We rest from the horror of the crucifixion of Good Friday and we are not yet at the joy of Easter Sunday.

The church at all times - but perhaps even especially during Holy Week - invites us to not just remember the great story of Christ, but to put ourselves into that story. We are invited to place ourselves into the story, so this past week we shouted with the crowd first, "Hosanna" and then, "Crucify him." We acted with Peter to deny him, we fled with the rest of the disciples in fear when the Romans came, and now we sit in shock and pain.

Why do we do this? We do this because to enter into the story in this way is to take the story into our lives in a way that becomes more than a mere story, but it is a living event in which we participated and still participate. Every one of us in our own lives will know the sorrow of death, death of family or friend or acquaintance.

By living fully into Holy Saturday we come to realize we do not live in this sorrow by ourselves, God is present with us. We learn God is with us in the midst of absence and despair and intense grief. The difficulty is most people do not want to either acknowledge or feel the pain death and absence can bring. And so most people want to skip quickly from Palm Sunday to Easter.

How can we truly understand the immense joy of Easter if we have not felt the immense grief of Good Friday and Holy Saturday? By being willing to enter into this day, the joy of tomorrow is made even sweeter.

The gift and promise of the resurrection, which we will celebrate with shouts of joy tomorrow, is understood best by those who have suffered loss. This loss is part of our human life.

And so on this Holy Saturday be brave enough to allow yourself to feel the sorrow at the absence of Christ. Be willing to sit in the silence and contemplate just how tragic it would be if this were the final end.

And tomorrow, give a glad shout of joy as we celebrate the joy of Easter, the gift of the resurrection, and say as one "Alleluia, the Lord is risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia."

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Rehberg is rector of the Church of the Nativity (Episcopal) in Lewiston.