I have never killed anyone.  I have never, in the course of my life thus far, shot, stabbed, poisoned, drowned, or in any other way taken the life from another human being.  But in my absolute failure to live righteously I have contributed to the death of the one man who ever lived who did not actually deserve to die.

This morning as I dressed for work I pulled on a kelly green polo–it would have been the perfect attire for earlier in the week when I forgot to overlook my true heritage for the sake of St. Patrick’s Day.  I was wearing this green shirt this morning as I brushed my teeth and I looked in the mirror and it was wrong.  The shirt was cheery and full of life.  Today is a day of mourning.  Without any fanfare I changed into a black sweater.

We have killed our King.

Good Friday.