Good Friday

Yesterday was spent as nearly every Good Friday of my life has been spent: mostly in church, not reading or listening to anything related to the outside world, with pit stops to donate platelets and drop off a book at the library.

So I missed yesterday’s events in Main South.

But — perhaps — I didn’t.

For much of the day, my thoughts were focused on someone whose primary concern is for the poor and downtrodden, and whose body no one wanted any part of.

As is often the case, much more attention was paid to hatefulness, and much more press given to the hateful, than to someone who quietly does God’s work.

I will not do anything to further the views of the former.

As for the latter, I would like to remind people that before this incident, Peter Stefan was the closest thing Worcester has to Joseph of Arimathea.  And he will continue to be for some time to come.

If you have any men’s suits or ladies’ dresses that you would like to donate to folks who do not have nice clothes to be buried in, contact Graham, Putnam, and Mahoney Funeral Home.  I cannot think of a more fitting way to honor the work he does every single day.

Because after everyone’s sense of moral outrage is long gone, Peter Stefan will still have a sense of morality that far surpassses most of ours.