Good Friday Thoughts

My apologies for not posting anything terribly original today. I do hope, however, that this collection of thoughts will serve to inspire in a small way.

It makes me happy that my parish bulletin is online.

For all the triumph that comes with Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem – a seemingly fitting recognition of the Messiah – it is darkness that awaits him by week’s end. But it is not the strewn palm branches or the crowd’s approving shouts that proclaim Jesus’ ministry and message. Instead, it is the simple, quiet moments and the darkest hours. Only when the Son of God ties a towel around his waist to wash the feet of his disciples does his new commandment of love become so clear. Only when Jesus dies, arms spread on a cross, is God’s love for the world so visible.

This Holy Week we come to see the ministry and message in our lives. By reflecting on Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, we recognize that it often is not our grandest achievements that show who we are and what we are about, but our simplest daily actions, and sometimes even our darkest moments.

And something from Palm Sunday my monsignor contributed:

Today marks the beginning of the year’s most solemn week. Today we commemorate the Lord’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem, entering the Holy City to begin the saving work of His Passion, Death and Resurrection. As the sun sets on Holy Thursday, the Lenten season ends quietly and the Easter Triduum begins, the celebration of our core belief in the Lord’s dying and rising. The shadow of the Cross falls over the sweetness of Holy Thursday evening as we celebrate the Mass of the Lord’s Supper...

There's so much I wish I could say today, but I can't find any acceptable way to put what I feel into words. It's a silent, brooding, sort of horrified awe that Christ would do what He did. I've never been so painfully aware of my own sin. A friend of mine was right...I hope Eudaimonia will forgive me for using her words. She says it with an eloquence that I can't muster today.

In a very real way, every day is Palm Sunday. As much as we might sing His praises, we still crucify Him again and again. With every uncharitable thought, we scourge Him just a little bit more; with every sin, we drive the nails in a little deeper.

From now until paradise, this is the human condition in all its weakness: as often as we beg His forgiveness, we find ourselves on the verge of betraying Him again and again.

The only consolation in this is that the acuity of this week does fade somewhat. Christ no longer suffers. In our acceptance of His Cross, we, too, will not live in agony. Our lives are preserved in Him.

3 He was despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.
Like one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

4 Surely he took up our infirmities
and carried our sorrows,
yet we considered him stricken by God,
smitten by him, and afflicted.

5 But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.

6 We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
each of us has turned to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.

-Isaiah 53:1-6

Pax Christi.