It has been six years now. Six years ago I wrote a poem and every Easter season someone asks for it, usually the mother of a girlfriend. I will post this poem again, aware of all the changes in my life and in the lives of those it is about. I am cognisant of my understanding and view of Jesus…always expanding.
What does Good Friday if anything, mean to you?
For me, not even noon, on this Good Friday of 2013, I am aware of today’s personal lesson and meaning for me. Resurrection starts in our hearts. And it all started with a little argument my hubby and I had this morning. For me, today it is about listening to each other, giving birth and new life to a relationship that means the world to me. And I am pretty sure Jesus would be totally cool with that, he may even show up as my hubby and I eat lunch toghether. I know the big J showed up on our walk, in our discussion, in my tears and in the hug we shared on the front lawn. I just don’t usually call that showing up Jesus, I call it Holy Spirit, God, Divine Mystery. I call it pretty damn awesome.
Resurrection, happening everywhere, we just have to be willing to be witness to it.
We walk up two by two
To kiss, kneel, bow, touch
We give reverence
In our own beautiful way
Gestures of love
Gestures of gratitude
A ten-foot cross carved from two logs
Sturdy, thick, chiseled with care
I offer my hand, kneel with bowed head
Return to my pew
I take in others’ movements of grace
I see the elderly man move slowly
Feet guided by his cane and wife.
Leaning forward, unsteady
He kisses the smooth wood
As if he were kissing the feet of Jesus.
Tears wet my cheeks
I catch my breath
This elderly man
Married to my mother
Loves Jesus even more than he loves his wife
And he would give his life for her.
April 2007 – J.G. McGlothern