12 Comments

Oh my, Annette, you've touched all the bases on the Good Friday tradition that I followed with my family (mostly with my Dad and my sisters) for so many years. Through rain or sunshine, accompanied by songbirds and the first buds of Spring, we mumbled our Hail Marys, Glory Be's, and Our Fathers, till we reached the top and touched the feet of the life-size statue of Jesus. I imagined I'd earned a whole bucketload of graces, further staving off my fears of Hell and damnation. Returning to "the steps" much later as an adult, I too realized I was drawn more to the birdsong and the solitude of a walk in Spring Grove Cemetery, for example, where I could pray a prayer of communing with nature and all creation. And by the way, I don't remember ever seeing any donuts at the top! Thank you, once again. You continue to find your voice and enrich us all. Love, K

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Kathy - Thank you for this beautiful reflection. The memories of tradition of dear. I can imagine you with your sisters rising up the steps to the top. But I also love a good walk in the quiet spaces to contemplate. I'm grateful my words are still touching lives...

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Thank you. I walked with you in spirit up those stairs. Love your writing. 🙏❤️

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Thank you friend. In my heart, I carry so many up those steps

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So glad Lynne could celebrate with you. I'd heard that story about the archbishop as well. Hope your donation fuels the return of glazed donuts, (smile).

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I love how church is really anywhere you feel it. Too many are like the lady in line, just going through the motions. Thanks for sharing. :)

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Agreed! I was just listening to a Krista Tippett podcast with Barbara Brown Taylor who talks about the poured-our church. And despite what she wrote years ago about that notion of churches emptying, I love her new way of seeing religion is that God is pouring himself out into the world. The faith and holiness is found in the world. love you!

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Love "pouring himself into the world." He/She is everywhere! Love you too ❤️

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I got goosebumps when you talked about the part of "my mom did this every year"...Thank you for sharing so much.

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I got goosebumps when he said. Like Mom was following me around that day :)

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I was faithful to the tradition for many years, both with my mother and once she was gone. All of the yearly ritual is tied to pointedly to the Irish and German poor who lived in the ghetto that once was Mt. Adams. So sad to hear that there are no donuts. That, too, is a tradition.

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It is a beautiful tradition. Lynne came to celebrate Easter with us, since she didn't make the steps. We all have our ways of making up for missed traditions. I've also read that the climb was inspired by an archbishop who encouraged patrons to "climb" to the church, by giving. Of course, it's always about the money. I do donate when I'm there, as I want those steps to be there for years to come!

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