Good Friday meditation

Scripture Readings

What part of this story could we leave out and still have the story we need? That is a question we ask sometimes with children in Godly Play, when we are "wondering" about the stories of scripture. What part of this story could we leave out and still have the story we need?

Of course we can't leave out Jesus, or the cross. They are the focal point of this story, the focal point of our faith. Generations of theologians have spelled out the necessity of this moment for our salvation. Christ's sacrifice is not something we can leave out of our Christian story.

But there are many other characters in our gospel lesson for this day. What about them? Could we leave them out? Are they distracting us from the main focus of what Good Friday is all about?

There's Judas and his betrayal. Judas came to the garden with soldiers and weapons, in fear and defense, even though Jesus gave himself up without a fight. Only hours after the Last Supper, Judas gave up his Lord to his death. Why did it have to be someone in Jesus' inner circle, someone who had followed him and his teachings, who gave him up? It would be nice to leave this part out.

There's Peter and his denial. Peter denied his connection with Christ; he denied being a disciple; he denied even being seen with Jesus. One of Jesus' most beloved disciples, the one who was the first to recognize him as the Messiah, failed him when it mattered most. Jesus' betrayal and death are cruel enough, without this extra layer of disloyalty from one of his most faithful friends. This part is hard to reconcile with the rest of the story.

There's Pilate and his conviction. Pilate wrestled with his conscience, and with his power. Pilate knew that Jesus was innocent, but he was afraid to take responsibility for releasing him. Instead, he passed the buck. He tried to prevent his own guilt by handing Jesus back over to the angry mob, knowing full well what they intended to do. If Pilate had just been a cruel or careless dictator, it might be easier to accept his decision. But he knowingly condemned an innocent man to death, over his better instincts. How do we reconcile this part of the story?

Mary and the other disciples also trouble us in this story. Mary, the mother of Jesus, looked up at the cross remembering her baby boy. The other women probably tried to keep her away, but she had to be there. She who had witnessed Jesus' first moments of life had to be there to witness his last. Why did she have to watch her child die? I would really like to leave this part out.

And then, right at the end, Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus came out of hiding to honor their savior. They acted quickly and furtively, to prepare Jesus' body before the Sabbath. They brought expensive spices, doing work that normally would have fallen to the women of the community. And then they disappeared as quickly as they had come. Is their role important to our story?

You may have discovered someone among this cast of characters that you would like to leave out, someone who complicates the story too much or makes its heaviness too much to bear. But there is a danger, when we talk about Jesus' death on the cross, to speak of it as a concept rather than as a real, live historical event, something that happened in real time with real people. So these other folks, who are huddled around the cross in various ways, anchor this moment in history and in humanity, and they also help us anchor ourselves in the story. Because, ultimately, WE are a part of the story that can't be left out. We betray and deny and convict, but we also wait and suffer and anoint. When we look into this story, Judas and Peter and Pilate and Mary and Joseph of Arimathea reflect pieces of our own image back at us.

One of the Holy Week hymns in our hymnal says:

Ah, holy Jesus, how hast thou offended, that man to judge thee hath in hate pretended? 

By foes derided, by thine own rejected, O most afflicted. 

Who was the guilty? Who brought this upon thee? 

Alas, my treason, Jesus, hath undone thee. 

‘Twas I, Lord Jesus, I it was denied thee: I crucified thee. 

For me, kind Jesus, was thy incarnation, thy mortal sorrow, and thy life's oblation; thy death of anguish and thy bitter passion, for my salvation.

I invite you to do your own wondering. Where do you find yourself in this story? How have you participated in Christ’s moment of suffering? How do you accept this sacrifice?