Good Friday

God who has adorned the whole earth with flowers is crowned with thorns. --- Byzantine liturgy

It is Good Friday, a day that so many struggle to call "good." I have had conversations with parishioners this week who tell me they don't come to worship on Good Friday. It's too intense. Too personal. Full of too much guilt about the ongoing role each of us plays in the injustice and suffering in the world. I understand the sentiment, but resist the urge to let any of us off that hook too easily. Just once a year it is good to be reminded of our sin, individual and corporate, and what it took for us to be forgiven.

And can it be that I should gain

An interest in the Savior's blood?

Died he for me, who caused his pain?

For me, who him to death pursued?
Amazing love! how can it be

That thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

'Tis mystery all! The Immortal dies!

Who can explore his strange design?

In vain the firstborn seraph tries

To sound the depths of love divine.

'Tis mercy all! let earth adore,

Let angel minds inquire no more.

He left his Father's throne above -

So free, so infinite his grace-

Emptied himself of all but love,

And bled for Adam's helpless race.

'Tis mercy all, immense and free;

For, O my God, it found out me!

---Charles Wesley, Eighteenth century