Every year I get that "Good Friday feeling." I mean the disconnect between what we celebrate as Christians and what goes on in the world. Although this year I went to the service in our chapel, in other years I've gone to the cathedral for the Good Friday services. The solemnity, the haunting beauty of the Lenten hymns, the reverence at the adoration of the cross--all this brings home the seriousness of the death of Christ and what it means for us. But then I step out of the church and drive home through a city that hardly knows what's happening. Life goes on as usual. Traffic, people walking, people working, in a city that doesn't sleep. God died for us. Today we remember it. But so many people don't even know.
It's the same feeling I had when my father died and when my brother died. After being present in the hospital when he left us, we went back out into a world in which business went on as usual. It's a disconnect. It feels strange. It's that "Good Friday feeling."