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Good Friday. The name may seem puzzling; it’s a
commemoration of an execution, after all. Holy Friday, Great Friday, Black Friday, are other names for the day, but Good is common in our day and likely comes
from the archaic sense of the word when it still connoted Holiness. (The etymology of good
bye is roughly: God be wi’ ye / God by ye / Good bye).
Here at
Academy Bed & Breakfast, we’re hosting
guests visiting families in Rosthern, we’re blanketed under a cover of fresh
snow (with more to come) and the temperatures are 10 – 15 degrees below normal.
There may be goodness in this prolonging of winter; I fail to feel it at
present.
Good
Friday worship services have taken place in the Christian Church worldwide. I
attended the ecumenical one in Rosthern. It was done in the form of a typical
funeral: a participant read the eulogy, Mary Magdalene presented a tribute to
the deceased as did the Apostle Peter. Primarily, God Friday services remind Christians
of the sacrifice that was made when Jesus gave up his life as an offering for
our redemption. Not everyone will comprehend that, logically, (including me)
but the transaction that is variously called “being born again,” “conversion,”
“accepting Jesus Christ as your Personal Saviour and Lord,” relies on the adoption
of a belief that Christ grants eternal life to all who put their faith in the validity
of this Black Friday sacrifice.
There are
protesters that say, roughly, that a God that is placated by human sacrifice
doesn’t correspond to a creator of a universe and living things that he loves;
it’s too bloody and violent to be credited. We must be misunderstanding—they
may say—what is meant when we describe the transaction of redemption in this way.
Some explain the crucifixion more
politically: a leader of a subversive Jewish group was executed by Roman
authority. Leaders of rebellions have always been targets of official wrath
(See "Zealot:
The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth," by Reza Aslan).
Still others think of it as a welcome Friday holiday, a good time to watch NHL
playoffs and sitcoms on TV.
There’s plenty of ambivalence to
go ‘round . . .
Easter Sunday
. . . as there is surrounding the
entire Easter cycle in the church calendar.
“The modern English term Easter,
cognate with modern German Ostern, developed from the Old English word Ēastre
or Ēostre. This is generally held to have originally referred to the name of an
Anglo-Saxon goddess, Ēostre, a form of the widely attested Indo-European dawn
goddess.” (Click here for
more.)
Orthodoxy has always insisted
that contrary to our experience, a body that’s been dead for three days can
recover physically, miraculously, and that that must be believed as fact,
otherwise the gospel message is null and void. (I’ve been astounded at the
lengths to which commentators on—and researchers of—the resurrection have been
willing to go to prove or disprove the authenticity of the miraculous
resurrection; see a typical website on the subject of the Shroud of Turin, for instance.) Liberal theology is more likely to accept a metaphoric
resurrection, i.e. the ignition of a fire that spreads throughout the world and
is evident today in the extraordinary impact Christ’s followers, equipped with
his spirit and fervour, have had and are continuing to have.
By this reasoning, though, Genghis
Khan, Winston Churchill and, yes, Elvis Presley are capable of “resurrection”
and of lingering on as presences in the world, a thesis that’s not impossible
to defend.
The metaphoric conception of the
resurrection, of course, has to assume that early gospel writers stretched the
truth, or else wrote in a code that they understood . . . but that we tend to confuse with historical
accounting.
This kind of speculation, of
course, plays havoc with those whose faith is founded on the hope of their own resurrection and that mystical transaction that makes eternal life
possible, and makes belief the key. It
also messes with our delight in Easter bunnies, Easter bonnets, Easter eggs and
the euphoria surrounding the message and the music associated with both spring
and hope arriving simultaneously (the former not to be the case this year,
apparently).
No matter how one understands the
Easter sequence, it seems to me the message in it must be remarkably similar in
import. In a world of pain, suffering and hopelessness, there was one who saw
in every human a child of God and found the strength to sacrifice himself to relieve
the lostness he saw around him. To the hungry, he gave food; to
the sick,
healing; to still others, like Nicodemus,
a vision for rebirth into a better reality; and to all, he offered hope.
No matter how the story of Easter
is interpreted, unless it creates in us fervour for the core message it will
remain meaningless and Easter bunnies, Easter eggs, and NHL playoffs will have
to do, especially when spring seems a distant dream.
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