Good Friday

So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull, which in Hebrew is called Golgotha. There they crucified him.            John 19:16-18

I have done nothing that seemed particularly glorified or holy on this Good Friday.  I didn’t even go to a formal worship service.  I just walked on the Greenway with my husband, attended the Special Olympics and saw both my children win ribbons, then celebrated with a lunch of Mexican food.  None of these activities occurred behind stained glass windows, though they may be among the most holy things I do.  Mostly this evening I am resting and praying. 

Tonight, before putting the computer down for good, I made a loan through Kiva.  If you are unfamiliar with Kiva, by all means check them out!  They allow common individuals like you and me to help make microcredit loans to people in developing nations.  Because of my interest in food, I tend to favor the loans for agricultural purposes.  Tonight, I helped to complete a loan to Pum in Cambodia who hopes to grow watermelons.

It is hard for us to get our minds around Jesus’ death on the cross.  This terrible and wonderful act changed our universe, and though we have discussed, considered and theorized on its meaning, ultimately it remains incomprehensible.  But it gains some traction for me when I can make some meager offering to share with someone else in the world, someone who does not have the abundance that I do.  Truthfully, I am not giving what is mine, but what is God’s.  My sharing is no more than an acknowledgement of our common need for God’s grace, and a recognition of the fact that we have received that grace equally though our material circumstances may differ.  We are identical in our poverty at the foot of the cross of Christ, and the same in our blessedness.

May you be blessed this holy season.