Another day,
The rain is falling hard, though beginning to slow:
Wind, thunder, and lightning started my day.
Sounds and sights:
Clouds covering the light
From a morning sun shining our way
And birds sing as if they are expecting a nice day
In a small world
After all.
The storm reminds me of
Dangers, of
Change, of
Wind blowing our way,
Or winds blowing us away and away and away and away.
Redundancy of rituals can serve only as routine reminders of
Life stories from historical events
And ancient traditions.
Or they can help us revisit,
Help us remember and reflect.
Inspire us to review their original occurrences
For more than knowing about or recalling.
But to receive. To be renewed.
I contemplate and journal
A free verse version of
Verses of freedom which
Biblically, historically, and personally
Invade my stormy, rainy Friday
And remind me why we title this day of crucifixion, of death, of blood
Good Friday,
Of why we call this Friday Good.
Fingers tap letters on a keyboard
To provide words on a screen
To present a poetic meditation
Of remembering death as the payment for life
Remembering – a task and mental function not always easy for us –
Is that thought process and motion of visiting again a past experience.
Elements can help us recall. Ingredients can assist in our attempt of grasping
Again a glance back in time to view the present from a lens now cleansed.
Bread plus wine to remember.
Wind plus rain to notice.
Nouns plus verbs to reveal.
Thoughts plus prayers to confess.
Ancient plus modern to merge
History into the present,
His Story into my mind,
His Spirit into mine,
His Love into me.
The rain appears to be ending its fall:
Wind has paused; thunder and lightning have departed,
As I remember darkness from a former Friday
Becoming light.
Sounds? Sights?
Clouds giving space for light
From a morning sun to shine our way
And birds continue singing on Earth Day as they do each day
In a small world
After all.
The storm reminds me of myself
And my sins,
Of darkness shifting into light,
Or winds blowing away
Hate on this sad, painful, bloody Friday
We call Good.
Remembering – as participants rather than observers –
Allows that honor of visiting again a past experience.
In reverence, rejoicing.
In silence, shouting.
In death, coming alive.
Along the way,
Chris Maxwell
Powerful Statement: The life of Jesus was a life of love, which means that Jesus spent his life on earth reaching out to everyone, especially to those who were considered outcasts and undesirables. (Juliet Benner: Contemplative Vision)
Another Day Along the Way (originally written in 2011)
A lot of the themes in this movies reminded me of The Passion of the Christ, a movie directed by Mel Gibson that I watched this weekend. The movie is so graphic, and subtitles are needed to understand the dialect, but it really helped me depict the “painful, bloody Friday we call good.” It helped me to “remember as a participant, not an observer.” Was I the one weeping when others shouted “crucify Him!” or was I joining in with the crowd, taunting and mocking Him. This weekend I was reminded of the sacrifice Jesus made, and the way He made it. Wiped over and over, mocked, spat on, abused and wrongly convicted, He took on our sins in the most brutal way, a dealt with it in a way only He could-beating death, and rising again.
I too watched something this weekend to remind myself of the events that took place. I began the new series “A.D.”; What really stuck out to me was the interview prior to the showing where the actor who portrayed Jesus shared about his journey with the movie. He said that prior to filming the cross scene, he went and camped out in the desert for 3 days. This amazed me that an actor tried to be apart of the story and reminded me of how we are already main characters in the plot.
I never quite understood why we call it Good Friday. This kind of reminded me. Jesus’ life was not about him or how He made us feel. I really hate the fact that He died on the cross–a horrible, painful, embarrassing death. I didn’t see how that was good. But then I think about what it meant and how he cared so much that he voluntarily went through that death. Through this death He made a way for me to see my Father, our Father. That’s why it was good.
Sometimes it’s hard for me to think about Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. It’s difficult because I know I have repeatedly nailed Jesus’ feet and hands into it despite having already experienced His blood-drops of forgiveness once before. I often wondered why my father was so adamant about making the right choice and fleeing/running/sprinting away from the line of sin. Realizing the weight of my screw-ups and sins and how that directly correlated to what Jesus had to do on the cross is definitely not something I enjoy pondering upon or am proud of. But I guess even in saying this I realize the problem, my pride. Jesus willingly did this for me. He didn’t do it because He was forced to but because “He first loved me.” Thinking about His sacrifice in this way changes everything. Jesus bore on the tree for me something that was so weighty I could do nothing about it. It was a Good Friday, because He is a Good Father, and He knew His children needed this most precious, Good gift. Now in response to this gift, God give me the strength to never take it for granted and realize how you conquered death that Sunday making Friday Good and that weekend the best in history.
This time on this day when I was thinking about the events of what happened that day, my mind kept going back to the Sunday before Palm Sunday when my church choir sang about the events that happened and then as a church went outside and nailed three nails into a cross and stood it up; while I was thinking about it all I could hear was the nailing of the nails into the cross and it made my heart hurt. It made me think about why it happened and then I got to thinking about why he did it. He died on the cross for us and that makes me feel better about it. I still hurt when I think of that day and the ringing of the nails but at the same time happy because he did it for us.
As I read this, I am reminded of a short comic I saw recently. A man said, “I don’t understand why they call it good Friday when its about a guy getting killed”. The person behind him said, “Let me ask you something, If you were supposed to die and someone else paid that price, what would you call that day?” The man simply answered, “Good…” The other person walked away and just said, “Yep.” I think we sometimes fail to accept that part of the Easter story. Christ died and rose yes, but he also took our place and did what we could not (conquer death). If we can grasp both of those points, we finally can realize just why it is such a great day.
The Friday that we call good, doesn’t really seem all that good. Sure, it is a major reason as to how we can now be saved, but it still seems so strange to rejoice in the death of an innocent man. A man who was in his very nature “good” and God. To remember the sorrow of a mother losing her son, is not very good. To remember a Savior who took our place, is good, but not always happy. The reason that Friday was good, was because of the Sunday that followed and life was offered to us. To remember the resurrection is good, but it could never be good if there was not a “bad” Friday, which we call “good.”
Good Friday came in the wake of me realizing how fallen and sinful I truly was. Never before had I understood the magnitude of God’s grace. How though we deliberately choose sin before him and spit in his face and ignore the sacrifice, he loves us. What even? We don’t deserve that. How great a love. How good this day we remember this gruesome sacrifice that bought back such destitute beings.
Every bad storm always ends with a promise. A rainbow gives us hope. We must be willing to look forward to the promise and not focused on the storm. Every suffering brings faith, so we must see suffering as a good thing. It builds us and brings us closer to God. It refines us and makes us stronger.
Where I am from, in TX, rain is a great thing. Most people, including myself, get excited about rain because we rarely see it. A bad storm in TX would be a tornado, which we do often have. In my case, rain brings growth and a storm may come with tons of rain.
I find who I truly am when i don’t let life pass me by, but when i participate in what all God has for me. My time here at EC at times has been just that at times, missing opportunities to serve the Lord and everything He has in store for me. Only seeing the storm, and not seeing the beautiful sunshine that follows. I am tired of a life of inconsistency and rain. I want a life in the full presence of my Creator.
The light at the end of the storm sometimes makes to storm worth it to me. Although storms in life can be really challenging, coming out from the trials and seeing the light is amazing. When the clouds clear and the light of the sun shines on us, it can be a beautiful reminder of God’s grace and love on our lives.