Some people love Fridays; other people hate them. Friday certainly has a different ‘feel’ about it compared with Monday, say, or any other weekday. In the monastery, Friday is a fast day and has its own atmosphere of cool self-restraint, always associated in my mind with such delicacies as pilchard hash or nuts-and-onions, a particularly unpleasant dish accompanied with sauce made from packet tomato soup (a relic of the Stanbrook tradition long since banished from Howton Grove Priory!) The fact that it is a fast day, however, is a reminder that every Friday is lit up with the mystery of the Cross. It has become rather unfashionable to meditate on the Passion and Death of Christ. We want to rush on to the Resurrection and the performance of good works, bypassing the messy, gory bits in the story. Perhaps today we could spend some time thinking about the redemption won for us by Christ our Lord, the cost to him, the gift to us.