Powerful Good Friday

Good Friday has come and gone again. Because we read the Passion on Palm Sunday (this year two chapters of Matthew) the entire week seems blanketed by the story. Our priestly work that day is different from most days of the year. After Morning Prayer we set time aside to hear confessions. The sacrament of Reconciliation is, of course, both one of the greatest and the most controversial gifts God has given to the church. As I shared about this some time ago, I do not argue with people about it. I have seen the power of release and the miracle of the sacrament so many times that arguments would be inappropriate.

Because of the flow of people yesterday morning, it was almost noon when I finished. The Good Friday liturgy begins at noon. Fr. Rene and I gathered before hand, said our prayers, and walked around to the front entrance of the church. As the big red doors swung open I was stunned by what I saw. The entire place was crammed full. Others were in the parish hall watching on television. Wow! I was blown away. Attendance was about 30% higher than I expected based on the last few years.

Those who attend an Episcopal service know that Good Friday is a sparse service. The music is sung without the organ. There is no celebration of eucharist. There are readings, a homily and some prayers. Fr. Rene preached powerfully. We took up a collection for the church in Jerusalem (and I thought about St. Paul doing the same thing and I felt a sense of salvation history). Then I walked down to get the cross.

It is made of two weathered pieces of wood. They were side boards on a house from the countryside in Mississippi. One of my friends at the church constructed it years ago. I carried it in, laid it on the floor, and pounded in the nails. No preaching captures the sense of the crucifixion any better than the hammer and nails. You can hear it. You can 'feel' it. I then stood and invited all the people present to come forward. To touch the wood, and as they did so, to offer themselves to Jesus. To the non-Christian I gave an offer of salvation, tell Jesus you trust His death. To the Christian I made an exhortation to recommmit and renew your faith. So they came, often alone, sometimes in pairs. Married couples holding hands. Mother with son. Parents with child. Individuals as well.

Some knelt before the cross. Some grasped its arms like a child holding daddy. Some kissed the wood. It was so solemn, so full of beauty and power. I prayed, over and over, as I looked at these precious people whom God has given me responsibility to pastor. Then Fr. Rene tapped my shoulder and said, "Let me take it." Maybe he thought I was tired. Maybe he wanted to share the moment. In any case, I was able to kneel in prayer and continue to thank God and intercede for those whom I love.

Peter told Jesus, "I will never desert you." I know he meant it. I know Peter intended to be faithful. I guess his words echoed in my ears as I watched each person, man and woman, young and old, come before that cross. I am sure each of us, at that moment, was sincere. I am also sure that in the days ahead our resolve will weaken, the power of the moment will fade. Yet Jesus knows. He forgives. He has compassion and mercy. He embraces us, in our multitude of failures and sees our desire to be His.

I saw that yesterday. I saw the people of God (the sheep of His pasture) and I saw the Lord (the Good Shepherd). I saw the holy transaction. It was powerful. I cannot wait for Easter!