It’s Good Friday. The irony of that caption has baffled me almost forever. What is good about a demented crowd and religious and political power brokers humiliating one who has been among them teaching and healing? The term used in my mother tongue seems more appropriate, Stelle Friedach (Quiet Friday). While this is only a linguistic or translation observation, it warrants a little closer look.
I must begin with a little rant. These last several days have presented more than
ever the argumentiveness of seemingly everybody on social media. I have only to
open Facebook, click notifications and there it is. A friend is 'sharing' her latest
creative thoughts, which are a cut and paste of another's creative thoughts, fully
explaining significance of Jesus’ death on the cross to save me from my sins,
including an obligatory request to forward to at least five others if I care at all! Another posting, obviously from a different theological angle, is in pain about Jesus having had to deal
with followers – early disciples leaving their day jobs to learn, ask
questions, advocate for him, see miracle healings performed, and yet one of them betrays and all scatter when mob action wins. This all in the occupied territory we read and watch on present day news media! I’m not sure whether to go on with this societal
critique or get down to the heart of the matter. And if I do that, there will be a number of my good friends, yes relatives, fellow Christians or neighbor across the street who suspect
I may be voting Liberal in next election.
My heart yearns Quiet Friday, and mercifully it is available still. This morning my wife and I were blessed to participate with fellow Mennonites in an inter-church service in our city. Attendance was better than it has been last couple of years, clear evidence of a growing spiritual hunger among us wealthy urbanites. I was not one of the planners, but probably the prior instruction to leave the sanctuary quietly after the last word was well advised and even welcomed by us hyper-types to just let it sink in. Perhaps our favorite theories of atonement or sanctification or Jesus as Savior and/or Lord can be laid aside and just … quietly leave. For the rest of the day we enjoyed considerable quiet, not even a couple of NHL games scheduled. I love it!
So, Quiet was the tone for today. The other option, Good Friday, however, has some sentimental resonance also in my soul. Good Friday became an important way of staking my faith claims during a stretch of my life when I was a long distance trucker. At mid-career point as identified by the life-cycle experts, fifty years old and my mental and spiritual being simply had nothing left especially after some recent work-related over commitments. I suffered what they label as nervous breakdown. The brief reprieve in the truck was going to quickly get me back preaching and teaching and relating and administering. I recovered, praise the Lord! Only it didn’t happen in the planned two-year reprieve; it took 21 years! South, north, east, west, all over Canada and the U.S. - seasons coming and going during those 2 million miles. AND it was the church year – yes church year (cf. Revised Common Lectionary Advent thru All Souls Day) that became my go-to. Within North America's supply chain service industry (in amazing cooperation with dispatchers and planners), I was able to stake my liturgical claims as priorities for my trips (eg Christmas more important than New Years, Good Friday and Easter very important, and try to stay out of the U.S. May long weekend and 4th of July 😅). There were times when my preferred schedule could not be accommodated. During those trips there was always somebody or something else – another trucker who wished he was home, or a chapel service in a truck stop somewhere, or just the right music, wide open highways, or conversation at a fuel island or wherever relationships might happen.
Given this bit of drivel with its sentimental twists and turns, from my current retirement vantage, now participating in a lively Interfaith organization in this city, I testify to the wonderful inspiration available in none other than Jesus, the One who walked this lonesome valley. I am ever so grateful for friends, Sikh, Muzlim, Hindu, Jewish, and Mormons and Christians of Aboriginal, Anglican, Catholic, Lutheran, CRC, UCC and even some Evangelical Anabaptists! I am most engaged when I communicate my gratitude for Jesus my savior! He’s walked with me and trucked with me, and on this day – Good Friday or Quiet Friday - gave His life even while setting a best example for each of us.
This is how we know what love is:
Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay
down our lives for our brothers and sisters (1 John 3:16).
For I resolved to know nothing while
I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified (1
Corinthians 2:2).