Good Friday Meditation

By Doug Donley

April 6, 2007

University Baptist Church

Minneapolis, MN

 

It’s an oddly named day, Good Friday.  It’s hard to think of what’s good about it.  It’s the rehashing of the last hours of Jesus’ life.  As we hear the stories over and over again, we remember the denial, the betrayal, the abandonment of his followers and the agony of Jesus’ horrific crucifixion.  There’s nothing good about it. 

It is the bleakest of moments for Jesus and the community that would become the church.  It is the apex of religion and politics mixing up and using the ultimate weapon of violence to try to silence opposition.  It’s the lifting up of the god of fear. 

The crucifixion is a warning sign to anyone who follows.  It is saying don’t mess with the powers and principalities of this world.  They will string you up, slander your good name, lie about you and even kill you.  And they always win.  Resistance is futile, you will be assimilated.  There’s nothing good about this.

            It reminds us of war.

            It reminds us of those who use religion to put people down.

            It reminds us of the price people pay for being faithful.

            It reminds us of the seeming absurdity of faithfulness.

            It reminds us of the fragility of life.

            It reminds us of all the loss we have endured.

            And we’re tempted.

            We’re tempted to run away.

            We’re tempted to turn our faces.

            We’re tempted to slip out in to the darkness, hoping no one will recognize us.

            We’re tempted to take our thirty pieces of silver and go on our way and start over again.

            We’re tempted to say, there’s nothing good that can come of this.

            We are tempted to forget it all.

            And yet, here we are. 

            We are experiencing the growing darkness once again.

            We are reliving the words of Jesus from the cross.
            We are contemplating our place in the world in light of these circumstances.

            We are remembering that even though Jesus felt alone, we are not alone here. 

            We pray together and we pray in silence—we contemplate, we relive, we mourn.

            Tonight we choose not to run from the joy and celebration of Palm Sunday to the joy and celebration of Easter. 

            Tonight we choose to be at the cross once again.

            Tonight we choose to reflect upon all the crosses and crucifixions in this world.

            We remember them and we recall that they are temporary desperate attempts by forces of domination and control to silence the oppressed and the truth-tellers.

            We remember that God is more powerful even than death.

            God is more powerful even than violence.

            God is more powerful even than fear.

            God is more powerful.

            God is more.

            God is…

            God.

We refuse to let death have the last word.

            We refuse to be silenced.

            We refuse to let this simply be a story of the ancients.

            It’s a story of our lives.

            There are trials and tribulations through which we live.

            There are demons which surround us.

            There are powers and principalities which call the  truth we know foolishness.

            And on this Friday night, we remember who is really in charge.

            We remember that suffering happens in the world.

            We remember that people get caught in the cross-hairs of evil doings.

            We remember that it is holy work to mourn.

            And we also remember that we follow one who went through all of what we remember tonight.

            This one intimately knows what we are going through.

            This one weeps with us and wants better for us.

            This one reminds us that “in the world we will have tribulation, but be of good cheer for I have overcome the world.”

            When we remember all of that, then we latch on to a power that can see us through even the darkest night and even the deepest despair.

            We remember that God’s plan for us is to endure, thrive and triumph over even the graves of this world. 

            We remember that we have a power and a spirit in us that we will need to overcome the bleakest of weekends.

            When we can remember even a part of that, then this will be a good Friday.

            But for now, remember the story.  Remember the pain and the grief and the confusion and the conflicting loyalties that surrounded Jesus’ last hours. 

            Remember the suffering. 

            Remember the pain.

            And remember that such pain is not the last word.

            Remember.  And in that remembering, remember who you are.

            Remember who you seek to be.

            Remember the gifts you possess.
            Remember the gifts you share.

            Remember the community that surrounds you and helps bring you back to sanity.

            Remember.

            Remember.

            Remember.