Good Friday….

The village Church, St Peters, has just had their procession through the high street. The vicar and 60 members of the congregation following the large cross being carried at the front.

Not being a member of the congregation I wasn’t aware of the event until I saw them coming towards me whilst I was in the car.

I pulled over.

I cried.

The cross on this day. The day he saved me.

One of these days I may write something on the cross, and everything involved in the crucifixion.

The spit as a reflection of our sins. dirty and on christ.

Our sins being apparent in the crown of thorns. There were no thorn before man sinned.

The hands that opened for the nails. These are the same hands that opened the kingdom of heaven for me.

The sign over the cross. The first true Gospel leading to the first conversion. The thief next to Christ on the cross. The sign a message from God in three languages so ALL can read it and know the true King.

Two other crosses. Showing me that God has given me freewill. I have the choice. One thief converted the other mocked. Which one will you be?

The path to the cross. A long walk with our sins on his back. But I see in it how far God will go for us. NO path is too long.

The robe he wore. In my sermon on Mary, I said that we wear Christ.

The robe reminds me that I have wrapped myself in Christ and am now properly dressed to enter the kingdom of heaven. He did that for me.

I see Christ’s whipped, torn and lacerated body and see in it the veil of guilt I allowed to form over me to block the view from my Father. In christ the veil is torn and I am free to approach Him. The curtain is down the door is open.

In the drugged wine soaked sponge I see him accepting the pain because he knew we would feel it too. He went through that for me.

The spear lacerating his side spilling blood and water. The blood of christ spilt for me. It doesn’t conceal my sins, cover them, diminish or postpone them. My sins by the spilt blood are gone. He has taken them away for all time.

The Cross. The cross…..

I look upon the cross and see Christs hands spread to the east and west. I see the obvious bible verse but I see more. I see the width of the cross beam shouting out how wide Gods love reaches. He loved me enough to give his only son.

Then I look beyond the cross. It wasn’t the end.

I see the burial cloths of Christ. In these rags of death I see the power of life. They were empty. Christ was gone. Like the empty wine jugs at the wedding God used emptiness to show His power. These wrapping of death are my symbol of life.

Finally I can look at the empty tomb and see Gods promise. It is empty because he dwells within Me.

My apologies for the ramble , but as the site says I go where God takes me.

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