We interrupt the passion of Christ to bring you these greetings!

There is a Catholic Good Friday observance called the tre ore or "three hours". It stems from the tradition that Jesus was crucified promptly at noon and died exactly three hours later. As Catholic schoolchildren, we were expected to spend this time in meditation and prayer or--failing that--quietly and calmly. No radio, no TV, no yelling or loud talking, no rambunctiousness of any sort. The more observant Jews among you know just what I mean: It's like a bite-sized Yom Kippur.

Fifteen years after my last class at a Catholic institution and counting, I still can't help being conscious of the tre ore. Two people have wished me "Happy Easter!" in the past hour and I found it jarring. "Christ is still on the cross," I told them each. I don't believe in Christ. That's not to say I doubt the existence of a man named "Jesus" executed by the Romans two milennia ago, but I don't believe he was god, or the son or god, or a nephew of god, or a false god, or anything of the sort. So why do I think things like that?

For lunch (at 1:30--another old no-no!), I had a cafeteria-style breaded fish sandwich of the sort that were my recurring lunch every Friday in Lent throughout my grade school days. Just for old time's sake.