Good Friday

Because of the good weather we're enjoying this week, I could cycle over to St German's to share in the morning's  Stations of the Cross. Then, with several hours free before the afternoon Liturgy of the Passion, I rode back into the city centre and joined the congregation at St John's for the first hour and a half of the Vigil at the Cross. Father Mark Preece was preaching. I was so glad that he'd committed himself to maintain this special city centre church tradition. It's a lot of extra work for him in addition to his role as Area Dean with responsibility for the Parish during the interregnum, on top of his own. It's an occasion that attracts all sorts of people apart from the faithful regulars - casual visitors away from home, aware that it's a holy day, and church goers from other parishes around the city that no longer offer the midday Three Hours devotion on Good Friday.

Then I returned to St German's for the afternoon Liturgy of the Passion, on the spur of the moment offered to improvise a short homily to prepare for devotions on the Seven Last Words from the Cross by Father Roy. I returned to the train of thought I'd developed for my address in Pontyclun on Wednesday, and starting by  reading John 12:23-32. I don't often trust myself to preach without any notes or a script, but this time, I felt the right kind of confidence to let the words flow from me. I felt very blessed by this, and by the liturgy it was part of.
 

On the way home, I called in to the office, unusually quiet as Council employees apart from the Traffic Wardens weren't working. There was a little snagging problem in something that I've been preparing this past few days that I wanted to deal with before next week's holiday.  A fifteen minute errand turned into a three hour marathon of a different kind. It turned out to be a real trial of patience and persistence to sort out. So it was gone eight by the time I got home, more than grateful for the serenity imparted by the worship on this Friday that is forever called Good.