Good Friday

My schedule is not especially tied to the regular workweek, and yet there is something absolutely irresistable about a beautiful, warm Friday afternoon. Were I still in grade school, it would be right about now that class would let out, and if we had been good that week we would be allowed to play on the playground for the last hour before the buses took us home. In our culture today, the spirit with which people receive their Friday afternoon is almost what the church fathers probably intended for Sunday -- a sense of liberation from the routine, a sense of "phew" that borders on transcendental. For just a moment, between the toil of the week and the exhaustion of sleep, we can let the sun shine on our faces, and feel the breeze.