Good Friday

This reflection is a repeat from past years. I will post the Easter reflection this coming Saturday. 

I am not including the Gospel this week because it is the reading of Christ’s passion with which everyone is familiar.

Perhaps too familiar?

It is sometimes difficult to pay close attention to this Gospel as it’s being read on Good Friday; it’s so long and it really is very familiar. It’s so easy for the mind to wander. But there are two short things I would like to draw your attention to and perhaps, in lodging them in your mind, you will hear whatever you hear at Mass with a different frame of heart.

The first is something Jesus said to his disciples after the Last Supper when they had gone up to the Mount of Olives. It wasn’t very flattering. He said, “You will all become deserters.” This was said to the ones who would carry on his work and especially to the one who would be the Rock on which he would build his church: Peter. In other words, he was telling them that they would let him down, betray him, fail him, be inadequate for the job, make the decision to be absent when he was most desperately in need of their presence, their support and their love.

He knew all this in his heart; he knew it without a shadow of a doubt. In all of history, before and after the crucifixion, there has never been such betrayal as when Jesus’ friends and brothers ran away and left him all alone to die. They abandoned him to face the terror and pain on his own.

Do you think that when Jesus was on the cross and he gasped out in pain, “Father, forgive them, they don’t know what they are doing,” that he wasn’t just praying for forgiveness for the Roman soldiers who were taunting him and causing him such excruciating agony? Could he not have also been praying for the disciples who were not there, who were hiding in terror? He was dieing on that cross for the ones who had ultimately betrayed his love, and he had never loved those disciples as much as he loved them while he was on that cross.

The disciples’ weakness, fear and poorness of heart, which resulted in terrible failure, was not the end of the story. Not the end of the story. NOT THE END OF THE STORY!

How often do you stop at your failures, weaknesses and inadequacies and write the end of your story right there? If that is where Jesus had stopped in his love there would be no salvation. But he says, “That’s the end of the story only you can write, but I’m the one who picks up the pen and keeps on writing in blood right through to the resurrection. I have won! I am now the True Author of your story.

Are you willing to give up the pen and let him finish what he started?

The second incident I want to draw your attention to is nearer to the end of the reading: “There were some women looking on from a distance; among them were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the younger and Joses, and Salome. These used to follow him and provided for him when he was in Galilee; and there were many other women who had come up with him to Jerusalem.” In John’s gospel we read that Jesus’ mother, Mary, was there as was John himself.

The women did not desert Jesus, nor did John, who was the disciple closest to the heart of Jesus. I truly believe this is because the women and John understood Jesus’ teachings better and in more depth. They were not receiving his message with just the intellect; they understood the heart language of his message. When we believe in the Lord with just our intellect we understand and agree to the rules. When we believe with the heart we become submerged in the rivers of compassion, forgiveness and mercy. Our intellect is needed for assent, but it’s our heart that leads us to fall deeply in love with Jesus.

These women, and John, who stayed at the cross didn’t just intellectually agree with Jesus’ message; they had fallen completely in love with him. They loved him like a son, a brother, a best friend; he was their Beloved Lord before the other disciples, excluding John, understood what a fullness of relationship with Jesus meant. The women were probably terribly afraid as they stayed near the cross, but their love for Jesus and their grief were stronger – stronger even than death. To know how they felt, put your child, your husband, your best friend or your favorite brother or sister up on that cross and imagine if you could see yourself running away, even if you were afraid.

Don’t think that Jesus did not catch the significance of the presence of those who stayed with him. The Father had sent True Love to stay with him in his hardest hours. Perhaps the presence of all these women and his mother and John was what gave him the grace to say, “Father forgive them, they know not what they do. Forgive the ones who ran away and left me. They don’t know me yet so they don’t know whom it is they have betrayed. Blessed are the ones who are with me. Thank you. Thank you…”

As Jesus gave up his life, the women, and John, were a beautiful sign to him that he was cherished and not alone. They were the ones who intuitively understood how far Love will go to rescue the lost. It is said that at the end of John’s life the only thing he could say to the people was, “Little children, love one another.” He knew that love, not intellect, was the saving power of Jesus. It all came down to love.

During the readings on Good Friday, even if you lose concentration at times, be there as one of the women or as John who stayed with him in his final hours.

Be there and be blessed by his gratitude.