Good Friday

The Rev. Kristin E. Orr
The Episcopal Church of St. John the Evangelist
March 21, 2008


"May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen"

Holy Sadness

The Passion Gospel is a story of cosmic sweep and scope. It is the story of God’s passionate love for human kind and the whole world was there and the whole breadth of human experience and emotion played out. The story is overwhelming to hear and to ponder. And it should be overwhelming, a story that we cannot resist or withstand, a story that sweeps us away like the mighty waters of a flood. Depositing us, as the story ends, literally gasping for life’s breath, finding ourselves in a new place and a changed landscape from what we knew before we were swept away.

But in addition to being an overwhelming, earth-shaking, all-encompassing story, the story of Jesus’ passion is also a very personal story, affecting individuals in particular and personal ways. Focus for a moment on some of the individuals who were there. Peter, struggling between passion for his Lord, and fear for himself. Annas and Caiaphas, dedicated to institutional Judaism and struggling, perhaps, to know best how to serve the people through the institution. Pilate. It really wasn’t his battle, of course. I don’t imagine that he had any personal investment in the outcome of the story one way or another. His motivation was to guard his own political ambitions, afraid that the "Messiah issue" might undermine his political power and standing. And Judas was there. What was he feeling? Fear is one of the most powerful of human motivators. Could it have been part of what propelled Judas? Fear of what it might mean for him personally if Jesus really were the Son of God? And there were soldiers, police, serving girls, all going about their normal daily work; generous Joseph of Arimathea; three Mary’s were there; and Nicodemus… so many individual lives with different hopes and concerns, all personally involved in this story. And the nameless people in the crowd who cried out "crucify him." Who were they and why did they seek Jesus’ death?

A large and complex cast of characters, all individually involved in this story in different ways, with different feelings, different motives. On this personal level, where does this complex story intersect our individual stories? Often, I think, many of us place ourselves in the crowd, among those nameless ones who cried out "crucify him." And as members of the crowd, we acknowledge our complicity, our guilt. That is one of the messages of this day for us all. We are guilty.

As important as the acknowledgement of our individual guilt is, do not stop there as you meditate on this Passion story. A therapist told me once that we are all of the characters in our dreams. Everyone who appears in our individual dreams portrays a part of who we are. Maybe that is partly true for this passion story as well. Contemplate how a part of you is Caiaphas, or a conscripted soldier in the Roman army, or Pilate, or the thief who repented and was the first to be saved, or Judas or Peter.

Or maybe part of you is Mary, any of the Mary’s, really. All John’s Gospel tells us about the women is that they stood near the cross. I can only imagine that their most powerful feelings were sadness and loss. They looked upon Jesus dying on the cross and must have felt indescribably sad. So much lost. Loss of life, loss of love, loss of hope, loss of so many possibilities. Hanging there was the representation of everything in human life that is not fulfilled. Sadness. A big part of this day is sadness. The day of crucifixion is not just about the fear of the powerful back then. It is not just about us owning up to our guilty complicity. Yes, complex dynamics of fear and guilt are a part of this story. But, especially on the personal level, there is sadness. This is a day of sadness.

This is the day of the Stabat Mater dolorósa. Even those of us who are not Roman Catholic can empathize with the image of this ancient Latin hymn. Stabat mater dolorósa/Juxta Crucem lacrimósa/Dum pendébat Filius. "At the cross her station keeping, Mary stood in sorrow weeping when her Son was crucified." I think I read that there are over 1500 known musical settings of the Stabat Mater. It strikes a common chord, expresses a universal human feeling.

Sadness, sorrow, lament, loss. And not just Mary’s sadness, or the loss of a beloved life. All those other losses that we grieve in our individual lives. All of the moments of sadness that weave themselves into every life. The love that is missing, the hopes unfulfilled, the valuable tarnished, beauty that is transient, lives that are so short. This is a day of sadness.

And on this day Jesus sanctifies sadness. Jesus blesses sadness by his presence with us this sad day. Just think what he lost on this day, what indescribable sadness must have been his. Nothing can begin to compare with God’s sadness on this day. He shares, participates in the deepest of human sorrow and sadness, sanctifying our sadness with his own. We cannot avoid sadness. And in the sadness of our individual lives we participate in a personal way in the passion story of Good Friday. We cannot avoid human sadness, but need not fear it. Because Jesus is with us there. The saddest places and times in our lives are holy. Jesus is there. Even on the day he died, we remember that he lives. On this saddest of days, Jesus is here. In all of his glory, in all of his holiness, in all of his passion, Jesus is with us here today.


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