GOOD FRIDAY -1

GOOD FRIDAY

“Stay here, keep watch with me; watch and pray.”

Words spoken by a very human Jesus, bewildered and broken by circumstances to which he freely submitted himself. Consoling words that can bring balm and calm to us, if only we stay long enough to let the words sink in, if, like Mary, we choose to become men and women wrapt in silence. In all the austere liturgy of Holy Week there is a stark moment of profound silence, centred on the person of Jesus. And, let us face it, we are genuinely and rightly scared of entering too deeply into his silent suffering.

It’s not easy to watch a loved one suffer. Ask any mother, ask any father. Ask God the Father. One day God asked Abraham to sacrifice his beautiful son Isaac on Mt. Moriah. But as Abraham with anguish in his heart raised the knife over his Isaac, God held it. God spared Abraham’s son. But he did not spare his own Jesus. He let his beautiful Son be struck over and over again till he died. What else could he do? He saw his creatures misusing their freedom, hating instead of helping one another, hurting instead of healing. The world lay wounded and suffering. So what did God do? He did the noblest thing: he decided to become a co-sufferer, share our pain. He would receive wounds like we do. His Son would be known as the “wounded healer.”

Yet out of the wounds comes the wondrous faith fact that is clear and central to our whole living as men and women devoted to Jesus and to one another. If we stay long enough to notice that the facts are kind. We begin to understand the only fact that matters: God’s total personal love for each one. And we may even begin to realise that God asks only one thing of each of us: “Let me love you.” There can be no greater sign of God’s love than the divine-human Jesus stretched out on the Cross. The open arms of Jesus reach out to enwrap all who stay long enough to notice.

It’s rather awesome, isn’t it, when another human being says, “I love you”. So it’s no surprise that when we are faced by these three words lived out in the total self-giving of God’s Son, we find it hard to accept that love. It’s too good to be true; it’s frightening, and it costs. For a commitment already promised and given calls for a commitment in return. Love is two way; but it cannot be forced. Our Lover is patient. We only understand the Easter mystery by Eastering. We live in a Resurrection world. But such a world of wonders is only entered through the wounds. Not that we seek a morbid relish of the wounds; rather, we ask for a deepening understanding and compassion. After all, there’s no point in looking at a crucified Jesus unless we are willing to be with our crucified brothers and sisters. The cost is radical, a condition of complete simplicity, costing no less than everything. So we pray this Good Friday for staying power, for watching power, for praying power – all gifts there for the receiving if we really do want them.

Jesus is the Wounded Healer. He used to be harassed and tired, dust laden and very much involved. He never kept a clinical distance, but healed the sick by touching and holding, speaking and reassuring, and in a very personal way, for power went out of him. We are healed not by his health but by his wounds. The Crosses in our churches bear the wounded Christ. Yes, Jesus is our Wounded Healer. He lived through everything in love, with not a trace of bitterness or hatred for those who wounded him. Each of us is being called to become the same in mind and heart as he. As St. Paul reminds us: “Let this mind be in you as was in Jesus.”