Ragtag Bunch

 

It was a ragtag bunch who followed the cross through Banchory this morning. A small group, by previous years’ standards: two years of lockdown interrupted this tradition, and maybe the word just didn’t get out.

A young man walking his dog looked surprised as he found himself striding into a small group of pretty old folks gathered round a wooden cross listening to a story. I wonder how he described his surprise later to his friends, his family.

As I followed in silence, I reflected on the things I think, say and do which, in their way, nail Jesus to the cross. Holy Spirit reveals only as much as we can bear at one time, peeling us back like onions. One day we shall stand in the presence of the Holy One, washed and dressed in the robes Jesus provides.

May I be a disciple who follows close on the heels of Jesus, not one who wanders off, who drops back, whose mind entertains critical or ungracious judgments. I am so grateful that, when I do stray, he is faithful to find me and bring me back into his fold.

A somber day of reflection today. So grateful for Jesus. So grateful to Jesus. So grateful.