Good Friday

Today’s reflections are a mixed bag.  Some deeply thought-provoking ones on the Lampedusa cross and small Alan Kurdi alternate with ones that verge on the sentimental.  “As you hung on the cross you looked back to Bethlehem and thought about the stories you had been told about your birth…”

I don’t like this kind of thing much, even when it is ordinary characters from the past.  These people are not of our time; they do not think as we do. I like it even less when it is Jesus…

Inside my head I think “but it wasn’t like that…  it wasn’t remotely like that…”

I look out of the window at the rain soaked fields, wondering what it was really like. And suddenly I am aware that the Christ on the cross is struggling with a multi-dimensional reality, trying desperately to keep the door to the kingdom open.

“It is finished.”  He can do more. He surrenders his spirit. The curtain of the temple is torn in two. The world turns dark.

In the darkness, the Created Ones step forward. It is our turn now.  If it was our sin that held him on the cross, now it is us that will hold the door.

Every small act of forgiveness, every arm around the shoulder of the rejected, every child listened to, every act of kindness, is our way of keeping the door open.

We can do this for him. It’s only till Sunday…



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