Waiting, Good Friday 2015

(The device I use to record sermons failed on Friday. I have several minutes recorded of absolutely nothing. I’m mildly stepping up the research for it’s replacement. Fortunately, I have a manuscript of almost exactly what I said.)

The lessons can be found by clicking here.

Today Jesus dies. Today we watch and wait.

We watch and wait with others. With Jesus disciples. Who had followed until the armed soldiers showed up with weapons and they fled. Who would’ve heard, still, where ever they were hiding, that their friend, their teacher, their inspiration, their Lord, was dead.

We watch and wait with Mary and the other women. Who hadn’t fled. Who had followed, too scared to stay, too unimportant to anyone else to be a problem, too scared to leave. With Mary who saw her son die. With the women who witnessed with her.

We watch and wait with God whose only begotten son, incarnate so that we could understand how much God wanted to be in relationship with us, dies. Who didn’t act. Who watched. Who died. Alone, suffering, in agony.

Our story, Jesus’ story is of a God who loves us too much to abandon us, even on Good Friday.

It’s a hard day, a hard place to sit. And yet I have found that people sit here too often. When the news is of death and tragedy. When our loved ones die. When the doctor has bad news. When, as it too often is, life is full of the tragic, the horrible, the unbearable. Our Good Fridays spread across our lives, too numerous.

Today Jesus dies. And it seems like the story should end here. Just as all of the Good Fridays we live through feel like the end.

Today we watch and wait just as God watches and waits.


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An Anglican/Episcopal priest, bibliophile, dog owner, and Montanan

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