The Question
How do you honor that which is most difficult?
The Intention
Grace
The Meditative Moment
One of the ritual actions that takes place on Good Friday is the veneration of the cross, also known as kissing the cross. It is awkward and weird and beautiful. During the Good Friday liturgy, the congregation processes forward and touches or kisses a cross. Some kneel before it. Some process forward with tears. Some merely bow their heads before moving along. It is an intensely private moment in the midst of a worshiping community. I love the veneration. I always have. As I watch people process forward, I’m overwhelmed thinking of what they’re bringing to the cross to venerate, because I know what heaviness I’ve carried to the foot of the cross as I bend to kiss it. It is a contradiction that Christians revere that which tortured their savior. It makes no sense in a logical world. But the older I get, the more I recognize the necessity of this veneration. Grief has done this. You don’t get to move past grieving without bowing your head to it. It’s hard work, heavy work, necessary work. And that’s why kissing the cross means so much to me. It’s the process of blessing and being blessed by that which is most difficult, that which tears you down, that which you would much rather turn away from. It isn’t immediate, this veneration. And it’s never easy; there’s never a year of skipping down the aisle to kiss that cross. No, it’s a trudge. But as we trudge along, we notice that the woman ahead of us is wiping her eyes too; the man who just returned to his pew is sniffling a bit; someone else just let out a deep sigh; that child there is witnessing what it means to struggle and not be alone—because every one of us has something that has bowed us down. And every one of us is trying to figure out who we are because of it.



Absolutely beautiful. Thank you, wise one.
This is a beautiful reflection and certainly what I needed to hear today. Much love to you. Happy Easter.