On Good Friday, we went to the cathedral to sit in silence. This is the cathedral that advertises that it is always open and we are welcome. There were no handles on the doors…they could not be opened.
We went to our local coffee house. It was open and full of friends and neighbours enjoying a day off. They did not seem to remember…that on another Friday, separated from us in passing time by 100 births, but not distant at all in the constant unfolding of timeless eternity, a sacrifice was made and is being made. This event continually descends to us, always new, if we remember to accept it.
There is an eternal landscape available to the heart, a landscape of feeling that is not shaped and reshaped by our hands. There, in the field of the will, great things are imprinted and may be invoked into our time and space. There, are pageants of the soul, gestures of pure meaning, free of all corruption.