Never have I enjoyed a Good Friday church service as much as I did the one Gerry and I attended this morning. It’s been three years since we sat in a church sanctuary with a group of, mostly unmasked, brothers and sisters in Christ and marked this Holy day by singing, listening to a word well spoken, and partaking in communion together.
We raised our voices and our hands and worshipped as we thought about the darkness of this day and the One who chose to experience what we struggle to fathom for the benefit of the whole world (the cosmos) and for each of us individually. It’s a message our finite minds sometimes struggle to wrap our minds around. We need the gift of Good Friday to help us see it anew every year.
The joy I felt this morning far outweighed the burdens (though I am not making light of the weighty things in our world) of the past two years especially. And hope. It was as if I could reach out and grasp hold of it.
We are grateful for the opportunity to participate virtually in Good Friday and Easter services in 2020 and 2021 but there’s nothing like being there in person, I can hardly wait for Sunday.