Good Friday...the day we commemorate the gift of sacrifice. Good Friday is the day Jesus was crucified to save ME (and you) from my sins. I have been attending Good Friday services in the Episcopal Church for 30 or so years now. For the past few years I have merely endured this service as something I was "supposed" to do, rather impatiently I must admit. This year was different. I went to the services today because I wanted to go; because it was meaningful to me. The service was beautiful in its simplicity, and spoke to me. For the first time ever, the veneration of the cross was something I felt comfortable enough in which to take part.
Over the years there have been many, many Good Friday services that have been meaningful, beautiful, odd, funny, or uncomfortable. Following are some of the highlights (lowlights?).
Although I don't remember it, Good Friday of 1964 is quite memorable to my parents. We lived on Kodiak Island, Alaska (where Daddy was stationed at the Navy Base). On that day, Alaska was hit by a 9.2 earthquake that was followed by a Tsunami. We evacuated to higher ground and were fine, as was our house. Others were not so lucky. There were more than 10,000 aftershocks associated with that earthquake.
In 1984 we were at Nashotah House for Good Friday. Holy Week activities were quite extensive and I found much of it to be intimidating as I was a relatively new Episcopalian - intimidating but beautiful and meaningful and quite a learning experience.
During the years we lived in Bainbridge, Georgia there were several standout Good Fridays. One year our choir was to sing "Were You There When They Crucified My Lord" at an ecumenical service. The plan was for us to sing it in unison. However, one of the choir members (Cathy?) suggested to the rest of us that we practice the harmony and, unbeknownst to Steve, sing it on one of the verses as a surprise to him. We did and he was surprised! Another year, and this is still one of my favorites, the weather was beautiful so we had the doors and windows open during the service. A dog from the neighborhood decided to visit us - he ran in, up the aisle to the top of the steps, and lay down with his head on his paws looking out at the congregation. This was pretty comical, but then we started to read Psalm 22, in which dogs are mentioned twice. At that point, the entire congregation lost control to the point that most of us could no longer speak. It took quite a while for us to regain our composure! In 1992 or 1993, Catherine (who was normally very well-behaved in church) was off her rocker - she refused to sit with me and several times ran away from me and up to the altar to talk to Steve who sent her back to sit with me. I finally had to take her out of the church for a Mother-Daughter Stand Off - it wasn't pretty!
When Catherine was 4 or 5 she took the message of Good Friday to heart. During bedtime prayers after the service she had a complete meltdown because Jesus had died and she didn't want this to be the case! It took almost an hour and a lot of fancy footwork from her Dad to get her calmed down.
Good Friday...the day Jesus died for our sins. Three days later...
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