Tonight is Good Friday. I asked to get off work early so I could go to church, where everyone wore black in anticipation of our mourning. Our service was somber, lights dimmed, people hushed. People read the story of Jesus’s arrest, trial, and murder, not as a skit, but as something more than a recitation. The story was interspersed with music, sometimes performed by a choir, by the congregation, by a soloist.
I’ve been learning about the value of walking through Holy Week one day at a time. Too often we jump to Easter, because it is easier to focus on good news and hope and life than to let ourselves sit with disappointment, rejection, fear, and death. But I think it is valuable to walk with Jesus and put ourselves in the shoes of those who knew him, listened to him, trusted in him, and watched him die. Continue reading