Thoughts from St. Andrew's Episcopal Church • Birmingham, AL

Good Friday • April 19, 2019

Old Testament: Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Psalm 22
Epistle: Hebrews 10:16-25 or Hebrews 4:14-16, 5:7-9
Gospel: John 18:1—19:42

My favorite Good Friday hymn is “Sing My Tongue the Glorious Battle.”  I particularly love the stanza that says:

“Bend thy boughs O tree of glory!
Thy relaxing sinews bend;
For awhile that ancient rigor
That thy birth bestowed, suspend.”

“Suspense” is such an apt word for Good Friday. So many things were suspended on that cross – Sin, Death, Life, Doubt, Belief.
For me, the understanding of death as a momentary suspense of animation is beautiful, powerful, and gentle. I envision an illustrated tree, as if from a cartoon, its colorful leaves swirling about. For a brief second the leaves pause in midair, as if trying to decide what to do next – then, all of sudden, they decide on a direction and are blown by the wind to the next scene. Or think of that breath-holding moment in Star Wars when Han Solo yells “light speed!” and for a half a moment all the stars are frozen in the sky in brilliant white streaks. A second later, the Millennium Falcon launches into the universe.
 Imagine those exciting, uncertain seconds of utter darkness after the lights go off in a theatre, before the first burst of music or light appears on stage. Or the momentary doubt I feel in the pit of my stomach every time I start playing with technology above my skill level, my finger hovering over the keyboard, quietly whispering the words, “Let’s just see if this works.”
 Perhaps what appeals to me is the tension between being in control and letting forces beyond my comprehension take over. What I’m feeling in these moments of suspense is a shifting of power – all of a sudden, I become vulnerable to awe, surprise, disillusionment, disappointment, and amazement. The crucifixion was a moment when God relinquished control and held earth and heaven in suspense. For those watching from the ground, the future is yet uncertain.
 This Good Friday, I imagine Jesus, hanging there on the cross, ready to draw his last breath. For a moment his life, and the faith of his disciples, will be suspended. “Let’s just see if this works,” he thinks to himself. And the tree, frozen briefly in time, prepares to change direction.

The Reverend Katie N. Rengers