The heart of the matter

Good Friday has a special place in my journey with God.
One of my first memories of church is shuffling forward with the crowd at my mother's Catholic parish, waiting my turn to kiss the feet of the crucifix cradled like a baby in the priest's arms. At my Episcopal high school, we walked in silence to the chapel to hear a solo baritone voice sing "Were you there?" When I came to Christ as a young adult, I went to sit in an empty church on Good Friday because I knew something powerful was happening that day and I needed to be there with Jesus.

I look forward to Easter, but I also treasure this sad and solemn day to remember God's presence in the midst of the worst of human suffering. Good Friday teaches us to see past our illusions to the truth of God's endless love. It promises us that when we hit bottom, God will always be there to lift us up.

The Plow

As Holy Week approaches, I begin to feel our resistance to it. Several folks in our congregation have told me that one or more of the services makes them uncomfortable. They don't want to have their feet washed, or sit through the intense drama of Christ's Passion. I feel it too - as I finish the planning for each service, part of me wonders, Do I really want to go there?

Christian faith is not always comforting. Jesus comes not just to love and forgive us, but also to unsettle us enough that we're willing to let go of what we know and live in his new way.
Victor Hugo has a wonderful image of us as fields being prepared for the Spring planting. Before the soil is ready to receive the seeds of new growth, it has to be broken by the plow .