Good Friday

After the Evening Mass on Maundy Thursday, we stripped the altar.  We took everything out of the church we could, and covered up anything we couldn’t. 

On the way out, no one said anything, but at the back of the church we stopped to look at our work. 

The busyness of moving everything was done.  And in the silence, the barren sanctuary with its empty tabernacle hit home.  

After a moment, the silence was broken by our deacon. 

“It’s just so….  Everything’s…wrong.”