It was a subtle invitation, almost imperceptible really. I might have even missed it in the activity that swirled around the Triduum and Easter plans.
Yet, at 7 p.m., I was drawn back to church for the Good Friday liturgy. Yes, back to church. We had already spent a good portion of the day participating in the living Stations of the Cross in our community. But as the family settled into after-dinner routines, I realized I had a window of time that I wanted to fill by going back. That surprised me.
I certainly did not head back out of a sense of obligation. We had had a beautiful day thus far and the emotions of the living stations mingled with the anticipation of the Easter vigil did not make me feel I needed to show up again at church.
I did not head back out of a sense of tradition either. I grew up in a very Catholic family that never went to church on Good Friday. No, our way of reverencing Good Friday was to spend the afternoon listening to the entire production of "Jesus Christ Superstar." I love that music and was mesmerized by the songs, the details and its palpable sorrow. If tradition were my motivator, I would have dusted off my own copy of that CD and filled the house with those tones.