PHOTO: MARY VAN BALEN ” Crucifixion” Scholars’ Lounge, Alcuin Library, Saint Johns University
When Jesus had received the wine, he said, “It is finished.”
Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.
Jn 19, 30
It always rains on Good Friday, my mother used to say. Often she was right. It was appropriate for the day we remember the suffering and death of Jesus as well as our sin that contributes to the ongoing pain and evil in the world. The Stations of the Cross were a regular Lenten prayer every Friday while I attended Catholic elementary school. Then, after Holy Thursday liturgy, the altar was stripped down to bare wood, the crucifix was covered with purple cloth, and in solemn procession, the priest carried the Blessed Sacrament to a side altar. The bare church sent a chill through my body. During Good Friday services in place of bells, a wooden mallet struck a small board, its hollow sound echoing off the walls.
On Good Fridays I am aware of emptiness – Jesus closed up in the tomb, not yet risen, a hole in the world where he used to be. I imagine the men and women who followed Jesus, who believed in him, waiting through that darkest night. What were they feeling? Did they speak to one another, or did each keep silent watch, folded into themselves with their private thoughts and fears?
Once, walking through the woods on Good Friday night, I stepped on a board that had been left near a narrow creek, perhaps for use in crossing the water. One end of the board leapt up when my foot came down on the other. It seemed tense, eager. I stopped and looked around; the woods were unusually quiet. Its creatures still. All creation seemed to be waiting. Waiting for something to challenge the emptiness that threatened to swallow it up. That is Good Fridays gift: awareness of the hole in the universe and in our souls while Jesus lay in earths bowels. Awareness of our need and the desire for God to meet it.
© 2010 Mary van Balen
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