Finding the Beauty of Love

This year as a Mercy Missionary, I’ve been walking a path that weaves service, formation, and community life. Every day, we encounter Christ in the faces of our friends on the streets of Portland, in the quiet hours of prayer, and in the shared meals and laughter of community life at St. Michael's Church. But something about Good Friday this year stood out.

Good Friday is known as a day of sorrow. The church is stripped bare. The music quiets. We remember the Passion of Jesus, the suffering, the weight of sin, the death of Love itself. And yet, in the middle of all that, something unexpected broke through.

We hosted a lunch for our friends on the streets, like we often do. But this time, there was a different kind of joy. A safe joy. A sense of peace that felt almost out of place, and yet perfectly right. Laughter bubbled up over chicken, bacon, ranch subs, soup, and coffee. Conversations flowed. Smiles were easier. There was something holy in that moment.

It struck me, even on the day Jesus died, His Church was alive. Because Christ gave Himself on the cross, He gave us the Church. And through the Church, people who are often overlooked or pushed aside can experience community, dignity, and joy, even if just for an afternoon.

That’s the mystery of Good Friday. Sorrow and joy aren’t opposites in our faith, they can live side by side. The cross didn’t stop the love of God, it revealed it.

And maybe that's what I’m learning this year: that in serving others, we find the beauty of Christ’s love, messy, unexpected, and always, always present.

As you finish reading this, I invite you to pause and think: Is there someone in your life, maybe a friend, a sibling, a parent, or even a neighbor, who might be carrying something heavy right now?

What would it look like to love them—not just with kind words, but with action, even if it costs you something? A little time, a little comfort, a little effort?

It doesn’t have to be big. A phone call. A meal. A ride. A listening ear.

Love that sacrifices, even a little, reflects the same love that changed the world on the cross.

Let’s be that love, one small act at a time. He has risen. He has truly risen indeed! So let Him rise in you and your heart.