Yesterday, while waiting for the Good Friday service to begin, I was really struck by the impact the bare altar had on me. All of the candles were gone. The altar cloth had been removed. Crucifixes were wrapped in purple cloth. The tabernacle was there with its doors wide open, and it was empty. It really brought home the fact that we were remembering the day Jesus was crucified and buried for our sins.
As I pondered sin and its grievous nature, I realized how little I appreciate the depth of my sins. While a part of me knows that my sin is grievous, a part of me wants to think, I’m a good person. I only do small, venial sins. I’m only responsible for a thorn in his crown, one that is just scratching his skin. Nothing could be further from the truth.
I know I’m telling myself a…
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