As I slipped into the service on Good Friday, I was struck by the number of children who were there. Their parents were busy keeping them engaged, pacing the side aisles, pointing out sculptures and stained glass.
When it was time for the veneration of the cross, we formed two lines and moved slowly up the aisle.
As we approached the front of the church, a little girl in line caught my eye. She looked like she was 3 or 4 years old, and she was totally focused on the large wooden cross the altar servers were holding carefully for people to venerate.
One by one, people were genuflecting and bowing to kiss the cross. The little girl’s eyes never left the cross. She seemed eager to participate.
When it was her turn, she walked right up to the cross, carefully leaned down very low, and gave the dark wood a kiss. Then she bounced away.
I was so touched by the way she paused to kiss the cross. Maybe she doesn’t fully understand the story and the meaning. Or maybe she understands it more fully than I do as an adult. I like to keep in mind that children often have deeper understanding than we realize—and they could have insights adults do not.
Either way, this tiny child who approached the cross with such reverence practically brought me to tears. After all, this is likely the first Good Friday she has really experienced. But she brought her whole self to the moment. I was so moved.
She might have been experiencing Good Friday consciously for the first time, while many of us in that church had been there before. But even if we think the experience might be the same, we each step into the story in a different way every year. In a sense, we are newcomers each time. We are no different than that little girl who is on her own faith journey.
Every year God looks at us with all the baggage we’ve acquired. He sees us with everything we are carrying. He knows all our questions and worries and hopes and dreams. And he invites us to leave them at the foot of the cross. He meets us where we are. He assures us of his love.
I have no doubt of his love for this tiny child. And I have no doubt of his love for you, for me, and for each of us.
At the Easter Vigil, as we watched people entering the Catholic Church for the first time, I thought of how they are trying something new in their journey. But just hearing about their experiences and watching them take this step forward in faith changes me and my faith too. It renews my commitment to faith to see them beginning a new chapter in their lives. No wonder we have the chance to witness those sacraments of initiation in our parishes each Easter. Our lives are enriched by seeing how God is at work in others’ lives. I’m in awe of their courage, their faith, and their commitment to grow closer to God.
As we continue through life, no matter how much experience and knowledge we bring the journey, may we find ways to encounter God and our faith with the newness of a child. God is unchanging, but we grow and evolve and are never the same. May we bring that sense of discovery to our relationship with him.
May we hear the Word of God with new ears.
May we see the beauty of the world God created with new eyes.
May we experience God’s blessings in our lives with new gratitude.
May we sit with God and feel his love in a way that touches our heart and strengthens our soul.
And may every day offer a new opportunity to enrich our faith and encounter God’s love.
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