I remember Good Friday growing up. We had the day off from school and from 12 to 3 my UCC church held a vigil. Just watch. No music, no program, no words. Just sit and watch. I like to think that I remember staying for the entire time, but I’m not at all certain that I did. I like to think that my experience was very profound, but I’m not at all certain that it was.
After all, except for this Good Friday vigil, my church upbringing centered on Easter.
Today I still can’t get my mind around what this day means. I’ve stopped trying to figure out the theology of it all, but this year I am aware that my heart is responding. The most I am able to say, or want to say, is that I’m feeling some holy embrace for all the suffering in the world. Knowing Jesus suffered gives me hope.
After all, except for this Good Friday vigil, my church upbringing centered on Easter.
Today I still can’t get my mind around what this day means. I’ve stopped trying to figure out the theology of it all, but this year I am aware that my heart is responding. The most I am able to say, or want to say, is that I’m feeling some holy embrace for all the suffering in the world. Knowing Jesus suffered gives me hope.
RSS Feed