This year, I find myself reflecting on my 1987 trip to Eastern Europe. On Maundy Thursday, we were in Warsaw. On Good Friday, we traveled to Moscow, and missed worship. We made up for it on Holy Saturday by joining worshipers at a nearby church in the early afternoon. The experience changed me forever.
In the West, we usually take a more academic or theological
approach to Jesus hanging on the cross, even explaining his gruesome death, how
he struggled to breathe and so forth. We approach Good Friday with the mind.
In the East, the
tradition is to engage the heart. In Warsaw, there were tombs of crepe paper or
some other material, ready to receive the body. In Moscow, we joined in the
wake. We lit candles and prayed with the saints. And we lined up to view the
body. We joined the line of good babushkas (grandmothers) who kissed the icon
of Jesus’ body, feet, hands, and forehead. And wept, as if Jesus had died yesterday.
It is only by allowing ourselves to feel real pain, that we
can experience real joy on Easter.
This afternoon, allow yourself to feel the pain Jesus felt.
Allow yourself to weep and cry out in despair with the
disciples as they fear they, too, will be arrested and executed.
Grieve with Mary Magdalene and Mary the Mother.
Engage your heart in this most tragic event.
Amen
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