I'm always struck by the fact that this day, the day that Christians commemorate the Crucifixion and Death of Christ is called "Good Friday." I understand why it's good, why this day stands as a moment when the ultimate meaning of reality was affirmed, that no suffering, not even death, has power over that man, but I can't but admit that there is a part of me that is averse to calling today "good."
Today is the day that sacrifice of all our senses is recognized, that for Mary and John on that day (and for us today), the recognition that nothing in reality, not even suffering and death, can keep us from affirming the meaning of existence, that is, that the Mystery comes to be one of us, to be a man.
This morning I took part in the Way of the Cross sponsored by Communion and Liberation in Downtown Washington, D.C. It was a beautiful gesture, from St. Peter's on Capital Hill, along the Mall, to the Washington Monument. It's a gesture done in the midst of all the distractions of the City but done completely in silence, to put ourselves more in front of the provocation that Christ makes to our lives.
Since its earliest days CL has taken particular care to mark Good Friday by organizing a beautiful, public Via Crucis in the cities were people of the Movement live. We do the Way of the Cross on the streets of major cities to say that the truth of Christ's death and resurrection is not a private matter of conscience; rather, it is the definitive event of history. We do it in the midst of the City, where people carry their own personal, daily crosses, to announce that Christ comes to our lives, to where we are, and that no part of reality is foreign to him.
The music was beautiful, the readings were done flawlessly, and the gesture was a real event for me. As I followed the cross, trying to stay close, trying to follow MT, to follow someone with a great certainty in front of the event, I was moved over and over again by the fact that this man is what defines my life. More than anything else, that is my family, my home, my culture, my education, more than everything else, this man defines my life. Today I followed him, 2,000 years after he first carried that cross, and I begged to be more aware of him, to love him more, to follow him more.
May it be done in me as it was in the Virgin.
Veni Sancte Spiritus, Veni per Mariam.
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