
Embracing Good Friday
Every year on Good Friday I sit in the balcony of the campus chapel, behind a whopping oaken pillar, and I weep copiously at the sheer human pain and grace of the whole thing.
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Every year on Good Friday I sit in the balcony of the campus chapel, behind a whopping oaken pillar, and I weep copiously at the sheer human pain and grace of the whole thing.

Here is a story close to my heart about two Secular Franciscans. When I was about 10 years old, my mother and father, devout Catholics


Loving his wife, being father to their children—these are moments of grace for a prayerful man.