Good Friday was gloomy, in fact it was throwing it down with rain. I, as has proved to be a theme this Easter, was running late for church. As I waited for the cross to arrive I was getting wetter and wetter.
And then it arrived, carried by a group of lads from one of the church football teams. They were in kit, carrying the cross with great patience and dignity. It was insanely moving.
And weirdly as soon as the cross was planted the sun came out.
Late I was struck with a thought as I read the gospel accounts of the soldiers interaction with Jesus. The stripping and beating and undignifying. It reminded me of Abu Grahb. In as much as you do it to the least of my brothers...