I have never been comfortable with the Veneration of the Cross at Good Friday services. I’ve stayed in my pew, or walked up and done something like a brief bow before… something that would make me fit in but not require any real involvement. I’ve never been comfortable, that is, until last night. I found myself almost anxious to join the procession to the cross. I found myself down on one knee, not wanting to rise anytime soon.

I’m not sure what to make of this. So, I’m just making a note that it happened. That, for the first time in my 31 years as a member of the Roman Catholic Church, I was moved in a way that I’ve never been before. It was a prayer in the truest sense.