Friday, April 6, 2012

The Cross

Good Friday

"  I am thirsty."
A jar full of vinegar stood there, so putting a sponge soaked in the vinegar on a hyssop stick they held it up to his mouth. After Jesus had taken the vinegar he said, ‘It is accomplished’; and bowing his head he gave up his spirit. 
                                                 John 18 14-16 (Universalis)

                                     Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.       Psalms 31

The pain.  Such a deep pit of pain; black and deadly.  The loudness of it catches my heart and drags it through crowded and hateful streets with the sweet salve of kindness random and fierce: Mary, Mother of God in an abysmal and crushing grief alongside her son; her fierce and frightening faith piercing all darkness. The violence of the mob thrashing in all of us.  

Good Friday, radiating up and down the ages what we are capable of in our fallen blight.  Jesus tortured and dragged into the country of our sin, enveloping it all by the greater divine love, His Passion. The whole of the Christian faith condensing down to the nailing truth piercing us all; His dying and rising for the gift of salvation, for our friendship with God.  All of our faith pivots there on His Cross, on the “Yes” of Jesus to suffer for us; on our “Yes” to Jesus and our following; the wood of our crosses rumbling.

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