Sitting here working with a student this afternoon, I noticed a church bell that kept ringing and ringing. Then I realized it was 3:00, the time of Jesus's death in the Bible. The bells mark that profoundly sacred moment.
The realization--the holy interruption--threw me off for a moment, but in a blessed way. The pain of Good Friday points to the light and healing of Easter. But we must stop, acknowledge, and some how gesture at imagining that pain and loss. The bells made me do that and continue to do so right now, hours after they stopped.
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