My morning walking buddy frequently leads me to new insights. This past Friday, we detoured through a small parkette near the waterfront. Leaving the small green space near an on-ramp to the highway overhead we came on this message. Someone had chalked it on a girder. On Good Friday these words take on many meanings to one who believes.
Later that day we recognized the death of God with many others who do care. We celebrate the death that gives hope and life. True, there are many times when it seems as if the meaning of that sacrifice is lost. It is lost when we dishonour our God and when we act as if neither neighbour or neighbourhood matter.
Remind me, gently, when I fail.