Here’s
an opening introduction to worship on Good Friday. It was written by Ann Siddall.
Opening Words
(inspired by the
events in Matthew 26-27, Mark 14-15, Luke 22-23, John 18-19)
Today
is one of the grey areas of the Christian year:
a
day when the lights are dimmed
and
the sky feels overcast even if it isn’t:
a
day when theologians and poets
feel
as if a heavy veil is drawn over heart and mind.
An
inexplicably sad day.
We
resist the grey areas,
prefer
to see everything in black and white,
look
for cloudless, sunny skies,
try
not to read between the lines;
throw
in a bright colour or two
to
try and enliven the scene.
In
the grey light of early morning -
after
a night in the ecclesiastical high court,
and
denial by one of his own circle -
Jesus
found himself at the gates
of
the reluctant Pilate, who promptly
tried
to hand him back to the Jews.
And
though the sun rose that morning,
the
whole world turned grey for One
who
found himself without friend or helper,
faced
with drinking a cup he’d prayed
would
be turned away from him,
knowing
that life was about to be drained out of him.
We
are invited to accompany Jesus through this grey day:
to
be witnesses to his suffering,
to
keep silence before his cry of dereliction.
In
our imaginations, let us trudge through Jerusalem,
until
we come to the place of the Cross:
and
then, let us not turn our faces away.
In
this grey day lie all the sorrows and failings
of
a humanity that strives for high success,
yet
comes up against human limitations,
and
falls to the ground in despair.
A
humanity whose peace plans
give
way to guns, and whose political promises
become
papers in filing cabinets.
Here
is a day marked by the brokenness of the world.
But
it is not a day to wallow in misery,
or
to indulge in morbid thoughts about the crucifixion.
It
is simply a somber, dignified day
when
we remember how it was for Jesus,
and
find at the foot of the cross
a
place to lay down ours and the world’s sorrow.
On
grey days it is hard to see clearly,
difficult
to understand things that aren’t clear.
Yet
all we are asked to do today is to be present
to
the sacred story as it is retold, and
to
the inexplicable, mysterious, wondrous
transaction
that was, and still is taking place.
~
written by Ann Siddall, in Lent to Easter
liturgies: Year C. Posted on the
website of the Stillpoint Spirituality
Centre. http://stillpoint.unitingchurchsa.org.au/
