There was a day I went to bed without speaking. This may not seem like much to you, but I've always loved a good late-night chat! Even when I was a kid, my Mom sat at my bed every night and she told me this was always when she would hear what was on my mind. I tend to process things then and this particular night, I had a lot to process. I wanted to tell someone, but we weren't speaking. Let me back up . . .
Our family was worshiping on Good Friday without any formal gathering to go to. So, we were looking for ways to make it meaningful on our own. First, around sundown, we traveled to the cemetery where my Dad is buried. We climbed the little hill there, overlooking farms and the sunset, and sang and read the story of Jesus' death and burial. We were getting ready to leave the cemetery when James said, "I really like visiting graves. Can we go to Papa's grave again? It makes me feel kind of happy, like we're going to see him." Well, how can you argue with that? God has been so good to us! This "Good" Friday is "Good" because when we walk through a graveyard, we can be happy! We can know that we will see these people again. We can be joyful because of where they are, what they are experiencing. Without Good Friday, this joy would be turned to anxiousness: did they live a good enough life? Did they do enough? But with Good Friday we can rest knowing that He surly has done enough for us to rejoice.
After the cemetery, we went back to my Mom's house and watched the video from our church of the Tenebrae service. This is a service where we read scripture, sing hymns, and the lights are gradually lowered in the church until the Christ candle is extinguished, symbolizing Jesus' death. Then, we read from Isaiah 53 about the suffering servant and as the text finishes, the Bible is slammed shut to represent the tomb being shut on Jesus. In our house, we had the kids go around and turn out lights in our house as the lights were being lowered in the church.
So, as the story of Jesus betrayal and crucifixion were being read again, I was meditating on how Jesus acted during this time (while I dealt with 2 half-grown boys squirming next to me!) I often go back to His words in the garden when I am facing a hard time, "Father, if you would, take this cup from me. Yet, not my will but Yours be done." I take comfort in knowing that even Jesus asked to be delivered from trials that were coming. It is okay for me to ask Him to take away my struggles, pains, or hardships. But, then, I always want to include the second part of the prayer, asking for God's will above my own. It's a pattern of prayer that I've grown pretty familiar with. After this part, we read through the rest of the trail and execution. Then, the pastor gave a short sermon that included a description of the truly excruciating reality of crucifixion. I won't go into that now, but if you've never read a medical account, it is worth doing, so we can fully appreciate the sacrifice.
I was beginning to feel so much despair for what my Savior went through. How could he have continued? He said he could ask and be taken down and yet, he stayed. He even experienced his Father turning completely away, "My God, My God! Why have you forsaken me?" But then, the most remarkable thing happened. Right before he died, he said, "Father, into your hands, I commit my Spirit." Woah! This man, who has gone through all these multiplied agonies at the hand of his Father, committed his Spirit into those same hands. He looked his suffering in the face and accepted it, knowing it was God's will. He knew God was the one who was allowing . . . can I say, even orchestrating? . . . his suffering. Yet, when the time came, he offered himself back to that same God.
Jesus told his disciples, right before he went to the cross, to take up their own crosses and follow him. When I'm going through hardships in my life, maybe like these current ones, can I take up my cross in the midst of it? Can I pray, like Jesus, "Not my will but Yours be done?" Can I pray, like Jesus, "Into your hands, Father, I commit my spirit?" These are the questions I was wrestling with as we neared the end of the worship service.
At the very end, after we were sitting in darkness, after we had finished singing our last hymn, our whole family went to bed in the dark, without speaking. We used to leave the church in silence at the end of a Good Friday service, but since we had turned our home into the worship space, we just went to bed. I was brimming with these ideas I was trying to flesh out and I couldn't process them with anyone. I lay in bed, talking with the Lord about His example, asking Him to help me have the same response to suffering. By God's grace, I won't shy away from the Father. I won't begin to distrust Him for allowing suffering into my life. By God's grace, I will throw my life, body, soul and spirit, back into the hands that made me, trusting in His mercy and grace.
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