Apr 10 2020 – Good Friday

Gracious God, the comfort of all who sorrow, the strength of all who suffer: Let the cry of those in misery and need come to you, that they may find your mercy present with them in all their afflictions; and give us, we pray, the strength to serve them . . What a strange Holy Week and season this has been. Pandemic, illness, quarantine. I’m sitting at my home desk, and it is unbelievably blue and beautiful outside, and still, it’s Good Friday, there’s a pandemic, illness, and quarantine. It seems ironic or cruel.

In normal years, I must admit that Good Friday is one of my least favorite services. It’s such a downer, commemorating Jesus’ torture and execution, and then we leave the church in silence. I’ve known many wonderful and faithful people who love Good Friday, and I’ve never really understood it. Perhaps I do a little more this year.

Of course, I have always known that bad things happen, and there is unspeakable sorrow in the world. I suspect it’s people who’ve experienced that sorrow and grief that find more meaning with Good Friday. I suspect that because in the past year, I’ve had more sorrow and grief than in previous years, and I am finding more meaning in Good Friday. It’s one thing to believe that Jesus suffered, and can meaningfully suffer with us now; it’s another to be the one who’s suffering.

Maybe I’ve been oblivious to my own suffering, or the suffering of those around me. Or maybe I have had an extra dose of optimism, that’s carried me through. Or maybe the world’s sorrows, coupled with my own, are greater than they’ve ever been. For whatever reason, I’ve got increased insight into the power of Good Friday.

I remember as a kid sitting in the chapel of my parish growing up, with its distinct smell, and crying, thinking about Jesus dying. I remember praying with others the Stations of the Cross, thinking how horrible it would have been for a mother, and crying. But today, it’s not a sense sorrow or tears that I sense. But rather, it’s an acknowledgment that there is pain and sorrow, and in the midst of that, Jesus abides. It’s not that my Christianity indemnifies or protects me from sorrows, but I have a deep faith that I am neither the first to have experienced sorrow, nor alone in it.

One of the many prayers included in the Good Friday liturgy spoke to me today. God is the comfort and strength. And that those who are in sorrow may know God’s mercy. Not that God removes the sorrow, but that God is with them in the midst of it.

And as Christians, it’s not enough to feel comfort from God, or to get strength. As the prayer concludes, give us the strength to serve those who suffer or grieve.

This morning, I’m thinking about the honor of grief. How it changes the perspective of the griever. And about how today, Good Friday, we sit in sorrow commemorating Jesus’ greatest sorrow on earth. It changed Jesus. It changes me.