Friday, April 02, 2021

Listening for the voice of Jesus in the Passion (a pandemic Good Friday)

 At-Home Readings for Good Friday  

Sometimes life changes enough that we get a new perspective on things -- like a new set of eyes, or maybe a new pair of glasses to see things differently and more clearly.  

The pandemic has highlighted human sin and selfishness (how bad we are), but has also made us more acutely aware of how universal are things like loneliness, grief, loss, sorrow, fear and powerlessness (how bad life can be to us); it has stripped away the illusion of control and power that so many live with, so often. 

And what if the Passion of Jesus (his arrest, trial, crucifixion, death and burial) is not something he offers to God, to pay the price of our sin and make us legally worthy of love and of heaven in God's eyes, but is something he offers to us to help us see the worth of our own lives even in the midst of suffering, loss, grief, loneliness and powerlessness -- that God is with us even in -- and maybe especially in -- these hard experiences of life? 

In other words, the Passion of the Christ might be not just to save us from the consequences (in God's estimation of us) of how bad we are, but to save us from the consequences (in our estimation of ourselves) of how bad life can be at times.

This year's Good Friday liturgy was written with one question in mind: if I were a disciple or companion walking with Jesus all the way through the stages of his Passion, and could see him looking at me -- looking me in the eye -- at each stage, what would I see him silently saying to me?

 

Opening Prayer

Loving and holy One,

you who has loved this world and all life in it

            from before the time you called it into being,

you who has loved us and born the weight of this love

            from before the time you spoke us into life and raised us up to be your children,

you who has step by step bent your path, your heart, your back and your will

            to care for us and be with us always,

we give you thanks and in thanksgiving,

            we humbly open ourselves to the gift of your love,

shown to us and to all in Jesus the Christ,

and by the holy Spirit, that his story stirs in us.  Amen.

 


 

Reading 1: Mark 14:12-26

It was the first day of the Festival of Unleavened Bread, and the Passover lambs were being killed. Jesus' disciples asked him, “Where do you want us to prepare the Passover meal?”

Jesus said to two of them, “Go into the city, where you will meet a man who will show you a room set aside for us.  Go with him, and prepare the meal there.”  They went into the city and prepared the Passover meal.

While Jesus and the twelve disciples were eating together that evening, he said, “The one who will betray me is right here, eating with me.”  This made the disciples sad; one after another they said to Jesus, “Surely, you don’t mean me!”

He answered, “It is one of you twelve who is eating at this table with me. This is the way it always goes, just as the Scriptures say. But it will be terrible for the one who betrays me. That one would be better off, never to have been born.”

During the meal Jesus took some bread, blessed it, and broke it.  He gave it to his disciples and said, “Take this. It is my body.”

He picked up a cup of wine and gave thanks to God.  He gave it to his disciples, and they all drank of it.  He said, “This is my blood, poured out for many as sign and seal of God’s promise to all.  From now on I will not drink any wine, until I drink a new wine in God’s kingdom.”  Then they sang a hymn and went out to the Mount of Olives.


Listening for the voice of Jesus:

Jesus says, come unto me all you who are weary and heavy-laden…

All you who have known the blessing of friendship,and the pain of its ending …

All you who know the joy of family, and the pain of its brokenness …

All you who have known the gift of community and the tragedy of its fragmenting …

All you who know love, and the sorrow of its limits …

“Come unto me, as I have come unto you;

I have taken up the yoke of life together with you,

and I will give you rest.”

 

Reading 2: Mark 14:32-42, 66-72

After the supper, Jesus and his disciples went to the Garden of Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here, while I pray.”  He took Peter, James and John with him and he began to be deeply troubled.  “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow, to the point of dying,” he said.  “Stay here and keep watch.”

Going a little further, he fell to the ground and prayed that if possible, what lay ahead might pass from him.  “Abba, Father,” he said, “Take this cup from me.  Yet not what I will, but what you will.”

He returned to the three, and found them sleeping.  “Simon,” he said to Peter, “are you sleeping?  Can you not keep watch with me for one hour?  Watch and pray, lest you fall away.”

Once more he went away and prayed the same thing.  And again, when he came back, he found them sleeping.  And not only a second time, but a third time as well, after which he said, “Enough! The time has come.  Look, I am about to be betrayed into the hands of sinners.  Here comes my betrayer.”

And just as he was speaking, Judas appeared.  And with him, a crowd sent from the Temple authorities, armed with clubs and swords.  As they approached, Judas went up to Jesus and according to the plan, kissed him on the cheek, as a sign that this was the man for them to seize.  The men seized Jesus and arrested him.

And everyone with Jesus deserted him and fled.

They bound Jesus and took him to the court of the high priest, to be tried.  And Peter, who followed at a distance, was mingling in the courtyard outside, warming himself with some others at a fire. 

A servant girl of the high priest passed by, and identified him as a friend of Jesus.  But Peter denied it, and moved out farther to the doorway of the courtyard.

The same servant girl told the people he was now standing with, that Peter was “one of them.”  Again, he denied it.

After a while, the people he was standing with, said, “Surely you are one of them; you sound like a Galilean.”  And Peter began to curse and swear that he was not.  “I don’t even know the man you are talking about,” he said.

And then, hearing a cock crow for the second time, Peter remembered that Jesus has said this exactly what would happen – that even Peter would disown him three times before the cock crowed twice.\

Peter broke down and wept.

 

Listening for the voice of Jesus

Jesus says, come unto me all you who are weary and heavy-laden…

All you who have been betrayed by people you trusted and counted as friends …

All you who have been stabbed in the back by people you have helped …

All you who have been disappointed, cheated on, and abandoned by people you counted on …

“Come unto me, as I have come unto you;

I have taken up the yoke of life together with you,

and I will give you rest.”

 

Reading 3:  Mark 14:53-65  

Meanwhile, in the court of the high priest, the chief priests, the elders and the teachers of the law were all gathered.  They were looking for evidence they could use against Jesus, to justify putting him to death.  But they could not find any.  Many testified falsely against him, but their statements did not agree.

Then some stood up and said, “We heard him say, I will destroy this temple made by men, and in three days build another not made by any man.”  But even then, the testimonies did not agree.

The high priest stood up and asked Jesus, “Are you not going to answer any of these charges?  Do you have no reply to any of this testimony against you?”  But Jesus remained silent, and gave no answer.

Finally, the high priest asked Jesus, “Are you the Christ – the Son of the Blessed One?” 

“I am,” Jesus said.  “And you will see the Son of Man – the figure of the end of days – sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven.”

The high priest tore his robe.  “Do we really need any more witnesses?” he asked.  “You have heard his blasphemy!  What is your judgement?”

They all condemned him as deserving to be put to death.  Some started to spit at him.  They blindfolded him, struck him with their fists, and said, “Prophesy!” 

Then the guards bound him, took him out, and beat him.

 

Listening for the voice of Jesus

Jesus says, come unto me all you who are weary and heavy-laden…

All you who have tried your best and still not been accepted …

All you who have taken a stand, and been mocked for it,

            or who have been bullied and ganged up on because you are different …

All you who have been scapegoated, and made to bear the blame

for the sin and the failure of the system …

“Come unto me, as I have come unto you;

I have taken up the yoke of life together with you,

and I will give you rest.”

 

Reading 4: Mark 15:1-20

Still very early in the morning, the Temple leaders led Jesus away to be handed over to Pilate, the Roman governor.

“Are you the king of the Jews,” Pilate asked. “You say so,” Jesus answered.

The chief priests accused Jesus of many things, and Pilate asked, “Aren’t you going to answer?  They accuse you of many things.”

Still Jesus made no reply, and Pilate was amazed.

A custom of the time was that at the Feast, the Roman governor would release from custody one prisoner whom the people requested.  When the people came to ask for a prisoner to be released as usual, Pilate asked. “Do you want me to release to you the kind of the Jews?”  But the chief priests stirred up the crowd that was there, to have Pilate release Barabbas instead.  Barabbas was in prison just then for insurrection and murder.

“What shall I do, then, with the one you call king of the Jews?” Pilate asked them.

“Crucify him!” they shouted.

To satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas.  Then he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.

The soldiers took him away.  They put a purple robe on him, then wove a crown of thorns and put it on him.  They began to shout out to him, “Hail, King of the Jews!” They struck him on the head with staff, and spit on him.  Falling to their knees, they worshipped him.  And when they finished mocking him, they took off the purple robe, and put his own clothes on him.  Then they led him out to crucify him.

 

Listening for the voice of Jesus

Jesus says, come unto me all you who are weary and heavy-laden…

All you who know the meaning and the pain of powerlessness,

and of being at the mercy of something terrible, bigger than yourself…

All you who know there’s nothing you can do or say to make a difference …

All you who are sentenced to suffer and die, because of how broken things are –

whether it be the brokenness of the body politic, or the disease in your own dear, mortal body …

“Come unto me, as I have come unto you,

I have taken up the yoke of life together with you,

and I will give you rest.”

 

Reading 5: Mark 15:21-32

Along the way, the soldiers compelled a man from Cyrene – a stranger from the country, to carry Jesus’ cross.  They brought Jesus to Golgotha (which means, The Place of The Skull).  They offered him wine mixed with bitter myrrh, but he did not take it.  And the soldiers crucified him, dividing up his clothes among themselves – casting lots to see who would get what.

A placard was placed above him, reading “The King of the Jews.”  They also crucified two robbers with him, one on his right and the other on his left.  Those who passed by hurled insults at home, shaking their heads and saying, “So! You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, come down from the cross and save yourself!”

In the same way the chief priests and teachers of the law mocked him among themselves.  “He saved others,” they said, “but he can’t save himself!  Let this Christ, this King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe.” Those crucified with him also heaped insults on him.

 

Listening for the voice of Jesus

Jesus says, Come unto me all you who are weary and heavy-laden …

All you who have been better helped by a passing stranger than by your friends …

All you who have felt naked and exposed, who have been shamed and ridiculed …

All you who have been told that what’s happened to you is all your own fault …

“Come unto me, as I have come unto you;

I have taken up the yoke of life together with you,

and I will give you rest.”

 

Reading 6: Mark 15:33-41

Darkness came upon all the land, and all was darkened for three hours.  After three hours, Jesus cried out with a loud voice, “Elo-i, Elo-i, lama sabach-thani?” – which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

When some standing nearby heard this, they said, “Listen! he’s calling Elijah!”

One man ran, filled a sponge with wine vinegar, put it on a stick, and offered it to Jesus to drink.  “Leave him alone now.  Let’s see if Elijah comes to take him down,” he said.

Then with a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last.

The curtain of the Temple was torn in two from top to bottom.  And when a centurion who stood nearby heard his cry, and saw how he died, he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”

Some women were watching from a distance.  Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the younger, and Salome.  In Galilee these women had followed him and cared for his needs.  Many other women who had come up with him to Jerusalem, were also there.

 

Listening for the voice of Jesus

Jesus says, Come unto me all you who are weary and heavy-laden …

All you who have seen and felt your life and your world grow dim …

All you who have wondered at times where God is – even if God is – for you …

All you who know there are some people who might want to help, but they are so far away,

and so trapped in their own despair, in their concerns for themselves …

“Come unto me, as I have come into you.

I have taken up the yoke of life and of death together with you …

and I give you rest.”

 

Closing prayer

Loving and holy One,

Faithful and descending One,

Living and dying One,

You have not flinched from the cost of love

You have not spared yourself

the price of companionship with us

You have not turned away

from your desire to be with us

and to help us to know ourselves as your people –

in life and in death, not alone.

           

For the heavy blessing of this day

For the dark gift of this story

For the unusually meaningful sorrow we feel

For the chance we have to know and hold close

the rawness of your love for us,

we give you thanks.  Amen.


 

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