Friday, 10 April 2009
For all but 3 days of the year I can not bear to look at portrayals of Jesus’ death. I refuse to look upon the crucifix because of how much it breaks my heart to see my king, teacher, lover, friend, and G-d put to death. On Good Friday, I have no choice but to let my eyes see the bloody mess that is Jesus hanging upon cursed wood. It still breaks my heart. For today, and tomorrow my heart will be shattered. I can not look to Sunday or think of it until her sun rises.
This year, Friday seems different. Typically I’m devastated and depressed, which I am, but there are new feelings this year. I try my hardest not to look past the day I’m living on Holy Week. Today as I watch my prince of peace be tried, cursed, and killed, I mourn greatly because it feels like defeat in every possible way. Except I hold an understanding now of what it means to take up one’s cross.
As I watch these horrible things happen to the man I don’t fully understand but fully trust I try to remember how he told me to love my enemies, and that I have to take up my cross and follow his lead. As I watch him die, I’m not only afraid of defeat and confused in every possible way but I am also attempting to find understanding in what I’ve been told for the last several years by this now broken man.
I’m less tormented with pain this year. I’m still confused. I’m trying to make sense of Jesus’ words. I’m trying not to lash out at the guards holding hammers and nails or my fellow Jews spitting and scoffing on Messiah as they cry out for his blood to be spilt on their own hands. What can I do but mourn? I know he had to do this, but I don’t understand. I know I can’t fight for him, but I don’t understand. I know he has promises to keep, but I don’t understand how he can keep them in a silent grave.
As far as I know, he was wrong and now he is dead. I want him to get up, but he doesn’t. Today is the worst day I’ve ever breathed. Tomorrow doesn’t seem much brighter. This is a bad Friday.
I don’t yet see the spectacle He has made of the powers and authorities.
I don’t yet see death’s great defeat.
On this Friday, a crucified false Savior is all my eyes behold.
In confusion is my hope and in uncertainty my strength.