A lonely Good Friday

Everett Fox has a translation called "The Five Books of Moses" in the Schocken Bible: Volume I. It is wonderful in that the translation seeks to keep the English translation as Hebrew-like as possible. His notes are faithfilled and informative. [Neither fearful literalism, nor 'scholarly' disdain.] Since Derek Leman http://yeshuaincontext.com/  has inspired me to more frequent and deeper reading of the Torah, I have read this Bible for many months. Yesterday I stumbled across something that was so connected to the feelings I have had about this weekend. In his introduction to Exodus 25-31 (p. 394) Fox writes, "But the sacred center, for biblical religion, finds equal expression in time. While the Dwelling account seems obsessed with matters of space, its setting among the sabbath passages stesses more the concept of time... the sabbath--an institution with no known equivalent in the ancient world.

In the Evangelical world of Memphis the Word is sacred, hence the high regard for the bible. However, the Catholic view of the world, which is biblical to its core, includes sacred space and sacred time. I am aware of the possible abuses of such concepts. I understand the impulse to reign in efforts to overstate the sacredness of space and time. [Though the Word is certainly misused just as frequently] Even so, I think it a gift to understand sacred place and time.

Our church building is built on this model of sacred space. There is a definite focus which reveals our understanding of God and worship. Sacred time also matters to us. There is a liturgical year. We have days and seasons, special times wherein our lives are lived differently. In Advent we hunger for the consumation of all things. We look to The End and The Great Deliverance when God will be all in all. At the same time, we prepare for the birth of the Messiah, that first taste of the Last Things. At Christmas we celebrate His birth and the manifestation of God among us. The twelve day celebration of Christmas, pre-empted by "Christmas shopping" and the American obsession with getting things done early (Christmas season ends on December 25) leaves liturgical Christians feeling out of it. Our excitement in the season is dampened by the confused looks of those who do not understand the appropriateness of a wish of "Merry Christmas" on December 28th.

Lent seems to be of greater interest to non-liturgical folks lately. The idea of discipline and renewal rings true, even if ashes, fasts and laments are not part of the norm. But we seem to have pretty mild Lents these days. Ironically, as we have so much, it seems we give up so little.

Last night we remembered the Last Supper. There is enough there to blog on for weeks, but the high points: eucharist and service (foot washing). After the closing prayer we leave in silence. There is no end to the service, it is gong to be picked back up at noon on Godo Friday. The time is different now. There was a prayer vigil from 8:00 to Midnight. It is our (sacred time) participation in "the Garden with Jesus." For four hours you sit in church. You pray. You listen. You read. Your reflect. You pray some more. You check your watch. You wonder if Jesus really cares that you are sitting here. (at least I did)

It is lonely, because it is obvious that very, very few think it is a good idea. A total of a dozen folks spent the night time hours in prayer. Jesus' question, "Can you stay with Me one hour?" received a resounding "nope." Today we recall the cross. Is today a different time? Is it somehow holy and unlike other times? In my youth it was. I remember an almost frantic need to participate with Jesus' cross. I remember wondering how to make Good Friday true worship. I am not sure I have progressed much since then. I still find myself wondering how to make the connection (or be open to His connecting with me).

Then I see everyone else, going about their normal lives, gearing up for easter eggs, baskets and the yearly trek to church. It is lonely. Very lonely. And it does eat away at the faith. It raises the question, "Does God care about all this?" Should today be better spent at an old folks home or soup kitchen than in a church? Is earth day celebration more appropriate than our celebration? (okay, I gotta admit that one does not really bother me or trouble me, but it seems to affect others....) How much time is too much, or too little? Is today special or just another day?

It is lonely to be part of a small handful of Christians doing what we are doing today. It is lonely. And last night as I pondered that loneliness, it struck me as appropriate. The cross is a lonely thing, Jesus hung there by Himself. At some point, it appears, Jesus felt totally alone, abandoned even by God the Father. Jesus certainly had been abandoned by His friends. Maybe loneliness is actually the fruit of sin. Isolating us from the beginning (as Adam and Eve sought to blame another) and keeping us from walking with God or each other. The pain of loneliness is a shared human experience. The pain of the cross (and there are many) includes that isolation. It is, in part, not belonging and not connecting.

I believe it is a different day, Good Friday. It is not meant to  be like any other day. TGIF parties are not appropriate and easter celebrations are premature. Today we turn to Him, we remember and we cry and we repent. It is good to do such things, even if most people have no idea what we are doing or why we do it. Being alone is not so bad, especially when a group of 125 or so gather to be alone, with Him, together.

Liturgy is God's gift to us. Liturgical Christianity is a blessing. Today is not any day. It is Good Friday. It is sacred time.