‘I Hate Good Friday.’

 I feel like a really bad Christian saying that. But that’s how I’ve felt about Good Friday since I was a kid. And perhaps ‘hate’ is too strong a word.

My dislike of Good Friday comes from my discomfort with the whole focus on the meaning of the day, to remember the death and (Easter Sunday) resurrection of Christ. When I first went to an Anglican church, there was this intense lead-up (called Lent) to Good Friday that lasted for six weeks where we beat this remembering and suffering thing to death! (pun intended). Every year it makes me wonder why we focus so much on the death and suffering of Christ when its so sad and horrific. I mean, if I had a close friend that went through all that and died, I would remember my friend with fondness, not dwell on all the torture that they went through prior to their death. I don’t even like watching CSI!

I feel like I’ve spent my share of time “In the valley of the shadow of death” (Psalm 23) the past few years.  And I distinctly remember the feeling that “we ain’t in Kansas no more”. The road of my life had completely washed out. That, in itself, kept me in shock for months before I realized I had to put my heart in 4 wheel drive to get moving again, however slow it might be. And it was very… very… slow.

I had gone to see the Priest at my church at the time (Al. He rocks!) two days before the washout. Al and I discussed a specific issue that had become problematic for me in my immediate family. I wanted a clear cut resolution but all Al would say is that “God is sovereign.” Well, duhh. That’s all you’re going to give me?… is what I thought at the time. I’m sure Al didn’t know that he was speaking  to me as the voice of my Creator in that moment. He was pronouncing my entry into my long journey through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and giving me my first clue on how to traverse it.

For a long time I just spun my wheels, sank deeper in the mud, got taken out by a few flash floods, and taken further into the Valley by some all-consuming mud flows. I fought and fought and fought it. And got absolutely nowhere, except maybe deeper. And darker. Through friends, reading, contemplation, and even people from totally different religions, God kept trying to tell me the same thing again and again and again… that He is sovereign… there is a master plan… and I am exactly as I should be. Even though it felt like an epic catastrophe.

And how did I actually engage my 4 wheel drive? By surrendering to and accepting Sovereignty. By NOT fighting. By realizing that I was no longer in control, and never had been in control of the road. By learning that I could only take the 2 feet of road that were in front of me right now, not the potential obstacle that lay a few days/weeks/months/years down the road. The road changes every day.

My acceptance meant being willing to take some bumps and bruises, even though they hurt, because I know this road is going somewhere good. I have full confidence that this is the ride of my life, but, crap, is it scary sometimes! One day I’m so scared that I can barely move or think, the next I’m thinking this is the best freakin ride in the world! THIS IS LIFE! AND I AM LIVING IT TO MY FULLEST CAPACITY!

Often it means taking time to stop, get out, and examine the obstacle objectively, or from a different angle to understand it better. This is done through meditation and reflection time. I’ve learned that its also very important not to beat myself up for getting myself into this ‘jackpot’ (ie – wreck of a road) because it’s the only road I have. I did not take a wrong turn. Its exactly where I’m supposed to be. There is a way through. Sometimes its from a different approach. Sometimes its by getting some help from someone else with a winch. Sometimes its by building a bridge. Sometimes its about getting advice from someone else who just crossed the same obstacle. Sometimes its about waiting for the torrent and rain to die down enough for the road to become passable again. Sometimes its about waiting the long months for winter to melt into spring.

I’ve also learned that even though it is undeniably “The Valley of the Shadow of Death”, there is also unbelievable beauty along the way… not necessarily ALL the way, but all of the sudden you round a corner and there’s this incredible waterfall, or some bear cubs playing near their mom, or an emerald green lake perfectly set like a center stone encircled by diamond encrusted peaks… all things that were created specifically for me to see and enjoy in my life; things I would never encounter on the mainstream interstate, or would be traveling far too fast to be able to enjoy.

My favorite theologian, Fr. Richard Rohr, suggests that Christ, in his death, modeled for us a way to die to ourselves (or our ego’s… our desire to be in control… or what the Bible calls ‘sin’), and how that death to our ego / sin leads to life… our REAL lives, our lives utilizing ALL of ourselves, in all we were made to be, in and with the Creator; in full surrender to the Creator.

Many of us who participate in the Christian Easter tradition get focused on the gore and suffering of Christ on the cross (a la The Passion of the Christ, thank-you Mel Gibson). My problem with why I’ve traditionally hated Good Friday lies in the fact that I got stuck there… in the CSI recreation…and subsequently the third person observation. And then I felt guilted to be thankful for the sacrifice Christ made for me. I didn’t see that not only was he modeling for us how to truly engage in who we really are, but he was identifying with us in the difficulty of the struggle along the way, and the magnificence that the struggle gives way to… after some time.

I overheard this from high school students exiting a classroom on Thursday:

Student 1: Why is Easter such a long holiday?

Student 2: I dunno. Its some Christian holiday.

Student 1: But why is it 4 days long? Everything else is just 1 day!

 Good point! Why is there such a lag between Good Friday and Easter Sunday? I’d bet it has to do with the modeling… that it takes time for transformation. Its in the ‘down time’ that the transformation happens. And its often quiet. And unseen. And then suddenly its happens, but not because of our efforts. Because of what God does in His own time in His own way (or Her own way if you prefer the feminine reference).

 In some ways its easier for human beings to take in the Easter traditions on such a physical level because thats not that much different than watching an episode of CSI. It doesn't require one to engage in their own life struggle and transformation. And while I would never want to deny anyone the hope and joy Easter or Sundays offer, my journey over the last year or two has finally allowed me to see that Easter is much deeper, richer, and mysterious than the surface re-telling of The Passion event. That Easter is about transformation, a transformation that Christ modeled for us, and a transformation that I continue to live today. And I am so thankful for this rough road, and stark, raw, and naked beauty that it reveals to me. Many Christian say Easter is the highlight of the Christian calendar. I wouldn’t argue with that, but now its a lot more to me. It’s the model for each of us, as individuals, how to surrender to what we are, and who we are, in Whom we are, to transform into the fullness of all we are created to be.

May you rise in to the fullness of who you were created to be this weekend, and/or rest in the cocoon of transformation, in the Pleasure and Love of the Creator.