Friday Of The Passion Of The Lord ( Good Friday)

[cappie]

       The cross is exactly what we're being asked to contemplate today.  The Holy Thursday liturgy left us in Gethsemane, and offered the night to remain with Jesus, to watch and pray.  Now, we're on the move again.  There's so much action in this Gospel.  We see Judas betray, Peter deny, Pilate give in to pressure, Jesus suffer condemnation and torture, John and the women bear witness.   We know this story by heart.  We know each of the characters.  We know their words.  We know what happens.  We might know it too well.  We might allow these words to describe a past event only and not become a part of who we are deep in our souls.  It is certainly easier—more comfortable—to read this Gospel simply as an account of an event.   But if we're going to take it seriously as Scripture, we have to consider what it's saying to us.   There are many ways of doing that.  We might think about how our own behaviour is similar to the behaviours of the Gospel's characters.  Have we ever betrayed someone else—or even ourselves, our values, our responsibilities?  Have we denied, as Peter did, by turning our backs on people or situations that need us?  Are we disturbed enough by injustice and oppression to do something?  We might also consider how we have, in fact, been faithful; how we have indeed witnessed to truth, to mercy, and to charity.

        John offers us a very visual account that moves us from Gethsemane to Golgotha and has us "look on him whom they have pierced."  But in the midst of the tragedy of Christ's passion and death, there is such hope!  We know that today is not the end of the story, but rather it's a place on our evolving spiritual journeys where we must stop to contemplate and reflect on the power and conviction of the cross.  But when we look upon him, when we admit that this complete offering is a result of God's unconditional love for each one of us, and then we can begin the move towards Easter.

   There is an ugliness to the effects of sin that we just may not want to face, so that it's hard to stay and watch and pray.  They took Jesus down.  They took Jesus off that cross, cleaned it, and patched the holes in the cross where nails had supported his body.     Yes, we rejoice in the coming of Easter morning.  Yes, we live now knowing that the cross was not the end and we have been redeemed and Christ arose in glorious triumph, and perhaps it is a better thing that the pilgrim's eyes can be drawn more easily past the cross into the exquisite emptiness of the tomb—perhaps, but are we absolutely convinced of that?  Do we not still need today to look on him, to remain at the foot of the cross for a while, to watch and to pray?

   Listening to God at the foot of the cross of Jesus—whatever that cross looks like to us—can calm us and excite us, both together, and so transform our lives.

 

The great hymn by Isaac Watts sums up the Wondrous Cross

When I survey the wondrous Cross on which the Prince of glory died, my richest gain I count but loss, and pour contempt on all my pride

Will you believe he gave up his spirit when he had paid all you were to have received because of your sin, so that you will never have any debt with God, but the debt of love? Do you hear him say to you: "It is finished"?
Were you there?

Isaac Watts again:

See from his head, his hands, and his feet what grief and love flow mingling down; when did such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown.

Were all the realm of nature mine, that were a present far too small; love so amazing so divine demands my soul, my life, my all.

 

http://youtu.be/Z9eCUqz_x5A

Edited March 28, 2013 by cappie