Good Friday

It seemed to me that I saw a very wondrous tree
 lifted into the air, enveloped by light,
   the brightest of trees. That beacon was all
   covered with gold. Gems stood
   beautiful at the surface of the earth, there were five also
   up on the central joint of the cross. 
All those fair through eternal decree gazed on the angel of the Lord. 
It was certainly not a wicked person’s gallows there,
   but holy spirits, men over the earth,
   and all this famous creation gazed on him.
   Wondrous was that tree of victory, and I stained with sins
   wounded sorely with defects, I saw the tree of glory,
   honoured with garments, shining joyously,
   adorned with gold. Gems had
  splendidly covered the Lord’s tree.

The Dream of the Rood is an eighth century poem in English. Go here to read the full poem and learn more about it.

Taylor Marshall tells us why the Church Fathers thought Christ was hung on a wooden cross: Go here.

The Anchoress has contributed an article to NPR on why she is still a Catholic. It’s a good and inspiring witness. Go here and comment in order to help out.

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