Friday April 15, 2022
The Rev. Rob Stevens
Good Friday
Father, Into thy hands I commend my spirit Luke 23:46
A Reading from the Gospel of Luke
It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ Having said this, he breathed his last. When the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God and said, ‘Certainly this man was innocent.
Today is a day when we experience and contemplate some of the more counter-cultural notions of our faith. First, we are still and quiet. Think about how different this is from the norm. Whether it is the radio, your favorite song on your newly acquired I-pod, or just the chatter of life noise is a constant part of our life and silence can indeed be deafening. Even here today we break the silence. We offer meditations and music. We are too civilized or frightened to just sit and wail for the suffering of the world. So we do it orderly with music and words…but for us it is quiet…a tremendous change of pace.
The second counter cultural exercise is that we contemplate death. One reason that we leave so little room in our daily lives for silence is that, if we did, we might actually be confronted with things eternal. It is only when we take a deep breath and just be, that our mind can wander from the immediate to the eternal. Shopping lists, what’s for dinner, and what time is my next appointment, dominate our thoughts unless we are still and quiet. It is on this day that we sit with the reality that Jesus was killed and that indeed we will die someday. With these stark realities, we may wonder how on earth did this day come to be called good
Death and silence are frightening notions. And our culture preaches that Death is to be denied at all costs. Yet, today we are invited to embrace it, to be still, silent…what is so good about that?
I will not tell you that it is fun. I will not tell you that if you practice hard it will get easier. I will however, suggest that this day is a holy gift. Much of our life is spent witnessing the suffering of others and experiencing our own suffering, yet we do all in our power to avoid it. This day we are invited to sit with it…our reflexes and instincts tell us to run, turn on the TV, call a friend. Our God invites us to sit still and feel it. God indeed is inviting us to move through this darkness. Not around it but through it.
With Jesus’ words on the cross, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Jesus is present to his life and his suffering to the end invites all of us to be present to our life ALL of it, which includes suffering. Do we dare sit with our frustration over the suffering in the world or do we just avoid it by saying things like, “it is God’s will,” With a Pandemic that seems relentless, a war in Ukraine, our legislative body ignoring people all over the world who are starving, while rallying around the political cause of the day, and the reality that alienation and polarization are becoming more acceptable everyday. The question becomes, “Will we brush those realities and our frustrations to the back of our minds with the hectic chatter of life or will we accept the invitation of this day to simply be present these realities so that they may inform us and move us toward action?”
So here we sit. Quiet…still…and if you are like me…more than a bit uncomfortable. Yet, today, on the quietest day of the year, we have come to sit in the presence of one who was fully who God created him to be every day of his life--who loved God with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his strength, and with all his mind. He furthermore did it all with no more than the basic human equipment--a beating heart, two good hands, a holy vision, and some companions who could see it too--thereby showing the rest of us humans that such a life is not beyond our reach. Whatever else happens on Sunday or the rest of the year for that matter, this is enough reason to call this Friday Good.
Remembering Jesus’ last words and ultimately his death on the cross is only part of why we are here today. We are also here to remember and pray for those who suffer today. For we believe that Jesus is still incarnate in us and among us, that in others we still see him; that in us, others might encounter him. We are here to confess our own sins and culpability for the suffering not only of Jesus 2000 years ago but for the suffering of Jesus in others today.
This makes me realize that three hours or even a whole day of meditating upon the mysteries of the cross is a luxury, more of a picnic that penance. If I am to participate in the events that made this day in history, I must take my place in the events that make this day a reality, here and now, for far too many. The old spiritual needs updating; it is not just a matter of whether I was there when they crucified my Lord. Today I must consider where I am now and every moment as my Lord is crucified again, and again. It is truly heartbreaking. And that is as it should be.
Let us Pray.
O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on you whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that things are being brought to their perfection by him though whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.