The most striking of my childhood church memories occurred during our parish’s Good Friday service each year. At the end of the service, with the lights dimmed, our pastor would draw a black drape across the altar at the front of the sanctuary. As a child, the gesture reminded me of physicians ...
Saturday, April 11, 2020
This Easter, The Weary World Rejoices. But First It Grieves.
As a widow, I have newfound appreciation for why the mourning of Holy Saturday is indispensable to the journey toward joy.