I don’t deserve to preach the Gospel. I’ve had more than my share of sin over the past year. But I’m going to preach anyhow.
I’m writing this on Good Friday. I’m sharing a rustic campground with perhaps three or four others. Last night I went to a Holy Thursday service at an Episcopal church. The only reason I went was because I was with a friend observing the date of my leaving my ex wife a year ago. But perhaps it was a divine appointment. Whatever it was, it started a lot of thinking on my part.
The Episcopal Church considers worship from Thursday until Easter Sunday a single worship event. At the end of last night’s services, today’s walking of the Stations of the Cross that I also attended, and Saturday’s Easter Vigil, there is no formal blessing or dismissal. It is considered one continuous observation of the passion of Christ. I find this to be a beautiful concept as one is guided not just to a few thoughts about Jesus, but a four-day period of time.
While I disagree with some of the beliefs of this denomination, most of Christianity can agree with the Apostle’s Creed. And despite the trivial things that divide us, Christ’s sacrifice on Calvary unites us.
I prefer to view Palm Sunday as the beginning of the observation of the Easter period. In fact, I can relate to this incident more than the death of Jesus. It seems to be far more about the foolish person that I am, rather than the perfection of a sinless life. Here the people were celebrating Jesus and laying palms at his feet. In only a few days, they were screaming for his death. I am sort of reminded of sports radio, which I listen to a lot. Joe from the Bronx says he has been a Yankee fan for decades, then rips into them for not getting enough pitching or because a hall of famer is in a slump. Whatever happened to being faithful?
It seems I turn to God when one of two things are happening – when things are going great (namely I’m getting my way) and when what I have been done has put me in the depths of despair enough to get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness. The other times I seem to be just living for myself and enjoying life instead of praying regularly and trying to do what God would have me do.
Of course, Holy Thursday focuses on the last supper -- the breaking of the bread and sharing of the wine. I won’t drink wine or any alcohol. But it’s because how alcoholic parents affected my life. I can’t help thinking that Jesus liked to have a good time. His first miracle was turning water into wine (in response to his mother nagging him no less) and sharing wine with his followers at the last. And even at his death, he was offered wine. But I also remember how he washed the feet of his disciples, even knowing that Judas would betray him and Peter would deny him three times. It was his final way of teaching us to be servants, no matter what our station in life. Many years ago, in the mid 1980s, I observed this in a Roman Catholic Church. To see a priest washing the feet of some children was quite a departure from the way I had perceived priests from my childhood who were the ultimate threats when sister whomever was teaching and I was being a problem.
I long ago came to the conclusion that I am much like Peter, being bold for the Lord sometimes, yet covering my butt in the time of a threat. But I also feel I am not really like Peter in that I will not evangelize very much. I will respond to people’s questions about my faith and perhaps discuss a philosophical or historical thing. For example, I mentioned to the co-pastor of the church today that a description of the Roman whip was far different than the bullwhips we have today. It included metal barbs, like you would find in barbed wire and the thorns of large bushes. It was designed to inflict real torture and I sometimes wonder if the crucifix was more of a relief after the lashing.
Anyhow, it has been a very, very long time since I asked someone to accept Christ. I just don’t feel I am worthy enough in my life to ask that question. I think about my example to the world and realize that I’m not much to look up to as an example of Christ, but more than enough to be an example of Christ’s mercy.
During the Holy Thursday service, the scripture reading was from the book of Exodus regarding the Passover. I had often thought of the many times Jesus has been called the “Lamb of God” and that many choose to eat lamb on Easter Sunday. But I realized that the lamb was probably also served at the Last Supper as part of the Passover meal. I had roasted a leg of lamb and sliced the meat on Wednesday before leaving on my current camping trip and will have it on Sunday. But now I shall regard lamb as my Thursday meal. Perhaps some chops instead. In Exodus, the Hebrews were told to eat their fill and then destroy what is left over before the dawn. I find it interesting how much that is against our human nature. A highlight of our annual turkey feast on Thanksgiving is the leftovers. Yet God ordered that there be none. I wonder if it was because of simply a practical thing such as the lack of food preservation, or telling us that not only must we make a sacrifice of an animal, but then sacrifice the days of feasting on the leftovers. At any rate, next year I’ll stick to a couple of lamb chops.
Today’s Stations of the Cross service was a little different from the one I remember as a child. In the Roman Catholic churches I grew up in, the stations – in some form of art such as plaques, statures or stained glass windows - were in the church throughout the year, with a walk from station to station as part of the service. There were no stations in this church, which has its roots in colonial times. And so, a program illustrating each station was handed out. And at each station, prayers were said for different groups. For example, where Pilate sentences Jesus, prayer is offered up for all those convicted of crimes, regardless of if the conviction was just or not. Everyone was prayed for, setting aside prejudices against criminals. For we are all children of God, no matter what our sins are.
I thought of two high school classmates. One was always picking on me in school and shortly afterwards became involved in drugs and crime and was sentenced to the county jail for 364 days. I thought of how personal justice had been done. But as the days continued, I wondered if he was able to turn his life around. I was told by some people he did. The thought of vengeance had departed and was replaced by thoughts of concern.
The other classmate had a run-in with a crazed off-duty cop and did some hard time. I can clearly see how the injustice of the conviction has left him scared and bitter. I have told him more than once that it was in his best interest to forgive. But he can’t.
So I prayed for both of them.
At one station, the minister offered prayers for those who hate and those who have felt the hate. In the last year, my family has endured more than anyone deserves to have in both aspects. And so I began praying for the haters and the hated, and came to realize that I am both. We so often cite hating in others but don’t acknowledge the hate that is in us. And as I came to look at it, I realized how much more I hate than I think I do. I begged God to take it from me. Hopefully, he will replace it with something more worthy.
The Lord’s Prayer says for us to receive forgiveness only in measure as to how we forgive others. The Jews have their Day of Atonement. I suppose this day is mine. I cannot go to the people I have hurt, but I hope that through today’s Internet that they understand I am begging for, but not expecting, their forgiveness. This especially applies to my ex wife and children. But there are also so many others.
So what can I do about it? The Bible talks of the woman whom the Jewish priests wanted to stone because it was their law. Jesus said that the person who was without sin should throw the first stone. When all of the accusers had left, he told the woman to ‘go and sin no more.’ I will try to take that as my personal commandment from him today.
No matter what your religious beliefs, may the peace of God find you, revive you and renew you in this holy season.
