This afternoon I will lead a meditative Good Friday service. My favorite part of the liturgy is the solemn collects - lengthy prayers for the whole world. We intentionally pray for God's kingdom to be manifest in every aspect of creation and every realm of human activity. Today we will pray together, lighting candles as visible symbols of our prayers. Before we do that, though, we will read the Passion narrative - the whole story of Jesus' arrest, trial, and crucifixion. It speaks for itself, but I will say a few words that hopefully will help people relate that Friday long ago to their own lives. Here it is:
Good Friday doesn’t really feel very good, does it? It reveals the very worst humanity has to offer. The betrayal of a beloved teacher and friend, a crowd bent on killing Jesus, and an empire with the power and means to do it.
(sung) “Were you there when they crucified my Lord? Were you there when they crucified my Lord? Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble. Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”
We were not there on that most terrible day. But I imagine we all have experienced days where the light of the world seemed to go out. Tragedies both personal and corporate are all too common in this world.
This week we watched helplessly as Notre Dame burned. It is not the same as watching the Son of God die on a cross, but to see the destruction of something that seemed almost eternal - certainly that symbolizes the eternal - is so hard.
Events like this can overwhelm us, paralyze us even. Good Friday does not feel good.
But even in the midst of our horror and grief, Jesus is pouring out love. On the cross, as in his whole life, he is the light of the world. He acknowledges our human frailty and loves us anyway. “Father, forgive them, because they do not know what they are doing.” He promises a man being crucified with him that he will be with Jesus in paradise that very day. And he creates something new by joining his mother Mary with his beloved disciple. “Woman, here is your son.” “Here is your mother.”
At the foot of the cross, in the midst of death, even here there is new life, a new family, new hope springing.
We know how the story ends. We know Easter’s coming. But we don’t have to wait for Easter to look for signs of resurrection. Wherever there is tragedy, something new is being born. “Behold, I am making all things new!” God creates and recreates, endlessly, by pouring infinite love into the world. Our privilege is to notice, and to participate in that work.
Promises of money to rebuild Notre Dame have been pouring in since before the ashes were even cold. My prayer is that the impulse to rebuild takes hold of our hearts and minds, compelling us to look for other parts of God’s creation that need attention. If a building can inspire such generosity, surely the plight of our planet, and of our sisters and brothers in need around the world and in our own communities can move us similarly.
What might God be up to in our own lives, in the life of our community, and in the world? Where are the signs of resurrection?
This Good Friday, as you stand at the foot of the cross, listen for the voice of Jesus. Let him show you where something new is being born, and wonder how you might join him in helping it along.
Amen.
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