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Good Friday

This morning has dawned with clear blue skies, bird song and the steady rumble of cars carrying peopleto who knows here.  Soon the shops and museums, cafes and cinemas will open their doors to welcome the holiday hoardes.  Roads will fill up as the sunny day lures those who can to head coastwards or hillwards.

Meanwhile, in churches and chapels, and even on the steps of prominent buildings some poeple will choose to partake in bizarre rituals... anything from making nests from chocolate coated shredded wheat, to fabricating tombs from plasticene or a mini garden in foil baking trays... anything from walking stations of the cross to re-enacting the crucifixion in a city square... anything from Stainer to Bach to Kendrick to Townend... anything from cross veneration to prostration to procession.... anything and everything absurd and authentic in an attempt to recognise and remember the absurdity of a God who can die, an itinerant preacher executed after a kangaroo court...

Then, once we are done, when we should feel bereft but actually, for the most part, don't... we too go shopping, watch TV, get ready for tomorrow... and in my case drive out of the city for a wedding rehearsal... life goes on as it ever did, just as was the case in Jerusalem two thousand years ago.

 

There is a green hill, far away,

Without a city wall,

Where the dear Lord was crucified,

Who died to save us all.

 

The words of Isaac Watts, amended, emended, loved by many, recalling or evoking school assemblies and the smell of disinfectant in draughty corridors or polished wooden floors... they really only work on Good Friday, I think

 

He died that we might be forgiven

He died to make us good

That we might go at last to heaven

Saved by his preicous blood

 

Oh dearly, dearly has he loved

And we should love him too -

And trust in his redeeming love

And try his works to do

 

Try - not necessarily succeed, but try, do our best... will we?

 

Off soon to share in our Good Friday children and family vigil - always moving and meaningful.  I hope whatever your Good Friday involves it includes moments of wonder, space to reflect and time just to be

Comments

  • Off to the Three Hours at a local retreat house up here. Blessings on your day.

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