Between 12 and 3 on Good Friday I try to keep silence and pray or read some spiritual things as is the common custom. That is what I have been doing. I took my three year old son on a ride hoping he would fall asleep, and thus was blessed by listening to a radio broadcast of the Good Friday service at St. Peter’s on Guadalupe Radio. It was very beautiful especially excerpts of Father Cantalamessa’s homily and the singing. Before listening to all of this I walked down to get into the car with my son. I was holding his hand helping him down the steps from our upstairs apartment. I felt God speak to me “I had a Son like this once.” I was filled with joy and thought of what God did for us in giving his only begotten Son on this very day. I then reflected on how God literally had a son like mine, when Christ was here on earth, when he was a baby, a little boy. I suppose Christ is always a little boy, always a young man, and always a man of courage dying on the Cross and being resurrected three days later as his human life echoes in an eternity of Divine Love.
But joy? I certainly had never felt so much joy between these holy hours on Good Friday before. And then later after reading some beautiful things online I was filled with great happiness, and I thought of Jesus still dying on the Cross, and I wondered about this joy.
Then I felt God was trying to tell me something: “there is no greater joy than the Cross.”