This is for the good in you.

I just did the Good Greek Girl thing…

…and went to an evening church service for Orthodox Good Friday.

And a thought occurs to me now…

Can I spend the next 224 odd words ruminating on what exactly makes one Good? Or even, dare I say, Greek? It’s an interesting couple of questions. And frankly, I don’t have answers that will satisfy the ‘good’ or the ‘Greek’ among us.

So, I’m going to do what all cross-bearing Christians do – confess.

On a magnificent, unseasonably warm Autumnal day in Sydney this week, I was at the beach, basking in the delicious sunlight, feasting on an equally mouthwatering bacon and egg burger – with relish.

Now, if you are an observant Greek Orthodox type, you’re probably shocked by my sacrilegious choice of morning fare. Chomping down on animal products during Holy Week?! Not good.

In fact, I should’ve been eating like a strict vegan for the past 40 days.

I love the Divine, but I don’t believe that dreaming up a dozen ways with tofu and eschewing cheese for Lent is the pathway to spiritual bliss.

So tonight, I enjoyed my beautiful, Byzantine religion with all its rituals, pomp and ceremony. Mingling with hundreds in a packed church, I whispered ancient Hellenic prayers, millennia in the making. Touched the gleaming, gilt-edged icons of Mary and St Peter. Breathed in, incense. And kissed Christ’s flower-strewn tomb in emotional gratitude for… everything.

I felt good. I felt Greek. And I felt God, too.

Happy Easter.