In the mid-1990s, one of my daughters spent part of a year in Ghana on a fellowship. It helped her understand a culture that was dramatically different from the one she grew up in.
There's much I cherish about that Midwestern culture, but, having lived in India for two years as a boy, I also sometimes miss the less-laid-back approach to such things as spirituality.
I was drifting around on the Web the other day, thinking about Good Friday, when I ran across this story about how some people in Ghana will be commemorating today. I'd love to be there for that event. It promises to be full of life.
From the Christians among you, I'd be interested to hear about your most moving Good Friday experience.
My own strongest Good Friday memories from childhood have to do with attending a multi-church service in which seven preachers would offer comments on the "seven last words of Christ." I'm not sure I ever made it through all seven, but somehow it struck me that these adults take all of this very seriously, and maybe I should, too.
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