a Good Friday meditation

Good Friday.
2026.
The Cross of Jesus.

What does the crucifixion and death of Jesus on the Cross say to our modern, latte driven, texting oriented, overscheduled lives?

One of my earliest memories as a child was the large Cross in the sanctuary of the church I grew up in. When I tell my story I talk about how I first heard God speak to me as I pondered the Cross. It was not an audible voice I heard. It was more like an understanding that gently covered me. Looking at the figure of an emaciated, gaunt, suffering Jesus nearly dangling on a cross is the most important moment and image any one of us will ever behold or contemplate.

It is there where the mystery of the love and mercy of God meets the sin and darkness in my soul. It is there where the whole world can find freedom and forgiveness and where God lifts the burden and pain of failure and shame from the back of our souls, and from the very core of our being.

I am not speaking of magic, or some metaphysical allegory that somehow heals my brokenness. The Cross is not a place upon which we toss our wishful thinking. Reject it, mock it, turn away from it in disbelief… its power and proclamation remains undiminished… unhindered:

He did not retaliate when he was insulted, nor threaten revenge when he suffered. He left his case in the hands of God, who always judges fairly.

He personally carried our sins in his body on the cross so that we can be dead to sin and live for what is right. By his wounds you are healed. Once you were like sheep who wandered away. But now you have turned to your Shepherd, the Guardian of your souls. – 1 Peter 2:23-25

The Cross is real. The suffering is unimaginable. In the course of human history no one has suffered like Jesus did. No one. Ever. Isaiah rightly describes Jesus and, apart from His grace and mercy, my response to Him. Our response to Him:

He was despised and rejected— a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief.
We turned our backs on him and looked the other way.
    He was despised, and we did not care. – Isaiah 53:3

And it is the suffering of Jesus that, even as a young boy, called from deep within me a profound and unstoppable hope.

Look at the Cross. Reflect on the suffering of Jesus. This is what the love of God looks like. As a boy, I remember the light from the candles in St. Raphael’s parish dancing on the face of Jesus. Hope in flashes of flickering light on the crucified Christ. Now, so many years later, I realize that one of the many gifts of the suffering of Jesus is the assurance that he knows my suffering. He knows our suffering.

Have you ever been falsely accused? I bet you didn’t like it. Have you ever heard a friend make a promise to have your back and to see you through to the end, only to have that friend leave you all alone. All of Jesus’ friends did that to him. Have you ever felt that aweful deep down ache because you were misunderstood? Have you ever been physically struck and hurt because someone else thought it was funny? Have you ever been made fun of? Mocked? Have you ever experienced anxiety? Jesus sweated drops of blood as he prayed to His Father to, …take this cup from me.

Jesus chose to suffer for you. Now we can look to Him and ask Him to guide us, give us grace  and help us in our suffering and pain. But we must follow Him. It is too easy to want resurrection – and all praise to God, for Jesus is alive. But the only road to life and the light of Christ is the road of suffering.

We must follow Him along the via Dolorosa. The release from our pain, the soothing of our anxiety, the healing of our bodies, the calming of our mind is along the path of darkness, uncertainty, disorientation, rejection and confusion. It is taking our Cross and following Jesus. It is kneeling beside Him in the garden and saying not my will, but yours be done.

Good Friday.
2026.
The Cross of Jesus.

Will you reflect on the Cross today? Will you see Jesus suffering for you so that you, in the midst of heartache, loss, anxiety, rejection, and sorrow, can also experience the hope and understanding of our loving Savior?

Over the course of my life it seems that Jesus has continually reminded me of the grace, love and power of the Cross.

There was a Cross above us on the day we were married.
I saw the Cross at the end of a pew in the sad remains of the church I grew up in.
I saw the Cross in a small wooden prayer room decorated with the prayers of God’s children.
I saw the Cross brightly break through a cold, winter morning.
I saw the Cross on Salvation Mountain.
I saw the Crosses that my mom placed all over her house. 
I saw the Cross in the midst of the tragic loss of life, when so much ended for so many.
I saw the Cross in a new sanctuary. Still speaking to listening ears.

Ponder the Cross of Jesus. Let the Man of Sorrows cover your sin and shame. Walk with Him… listen to Him… confess your sins to Him… receive His forgiveness… He. Loves. You.

what i saw at jones beach

Grateful to be back in New York spending time with my elderly parents. Equally grateful to take long walks at Jones Beach. I love the winter shore.

in a little corner of my home

a cup of coffee
in a little corner of my home
lights and shadows
remind me of what lies within me
darkness and light
love and hate
goodness and self-centeredness

the memories descend

life and love
family and friends
grace and peace
laughter and song
so many gifts
undeserved and plentiful

soon the wraith
of dim stories arrives
failures
loss
shame
and the quiet ache
of all things left undone
and of all that i have done
to others and to myself

i choose to surrender
to all the images
that so quickly float
through my mind
as i lift my gaze
in a little corner of my home

three crosses
Calvary
such an ugly place
of death
of pain
of sorrow
of suffering

and it is there
in the midst
of the darkness and light
of my life
it is only there
where the lies i tell
and the lies i believe
are exposed

where my shame is undone
in love and acceptance
where i trade my burden
for hope
mercy
love
and the lightness
of forgiveness

and i realize
He is here
with me
in a little corner
of my home