Tonight was magical. I attended the annual Veneration of the Cross observance at my church and remembered why I joined the Church two years ago tomorrow.
Never have I seen such devotion, such raw passion exhibited by a group of humble parishioners – young, old, and every ethnic group on the planet. They were all crowded into our little church and they just kept coming.
As we knelt one by one and kissed or touched the cross in memory of the one who died such an awful death, I felt tears running down my cheeks. At the conclusion of the mass, the lights were dimmed and the crucifix was illuminated, while a bugler played “Were You There?” I felt like I was there – witnessing an event that changed the world. It may have been the most powerful experience of my life.
Part of it was knowing this ceremony has been conducted for two thousand years dating back to that first Good Friday. The other part was remembering the man that died that horrible death to save my sorry hide. The country song “Lord help me Jesus, I’ve wasted it So” began to reverberate in my mind.
I came and home and didn’t even turn on the television. Tonight I don’t need a diversion. I need to think about traveling in another lane. Certainly not the one in which I’ve been speeding along without much thought about my soul.
Enough preaching. I’ll leave that up to Father John from now on.