Good Friday

The Altars were stripped and two Masses of the Presanctified loomed large on the horizon; light shone above the empty tabernacle. Face East, and while you're at it, lose that nasty faux teak, Vatican II coffee table. Perhaps you have already, well done.

Deformation of the liturgy aside, what are you going to say after John's Passion. Face it, not an easy act to follow. There He is, the Son of God, fallen into the hands of sinful men, not least ourselves and wickedness looms large and strong. But why is it strong? Because Christ submits to it and He does so out of love.

I find this helpful, via Lectionary Central.

Human wickedness will raise itself in pride and claim to be "as God," but that is devilish delusion. God is not touched unless he will it so to be. 

We bear in mind today the weight of human wickedness, that reckless pride which rises up against the holiness of God and the order of his universe. But that is not what is first and most important in the mystery of the love of God, who freely wills our woes to touch his heart, who freely gives himself against our sins, in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. That is the mystery of this day, and that is why we call this Friday "Good." We celebrate the mystery of the love of God: that "God so loved the world, that he gave his only Begotten Son." (John 3.16) That is love unthinkable, utterly unmerited, beyond all possible expectation.

The preacher continues:

Our task today is nothing other than the contemplation of that mystery of love. It is to fix our minds and hearts upon the passion and the dying of the Son of God. That is, in a way, the whole task of our discipleship. Christians often ask for detailed recipes for Christian life, solutions to all sorts of problems, great and small, and ways for dealing with our sins. All that is understandable. But in the end, there is only one answer to all of this: we must gaze upon the charity of God in Christ. The charity of God must be our food and drink. That is now our duty: to look upon the crucified, and that must become also our delight. We must be transformed by that renewal of our mind, so charity becomes the very substance of our souls.

You can read the whole thing here and needless to say, charity or love wins the day beyond our wildest dreams. With that, have a blessed Holy Saturday.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Holy Week And Everything Else

All the teenagers of the world, led by the curiously named Hogg, descended on DC demanding the abolition of firearms. 

Julian Assange has had his internet cut off and the nations of what used to be called the free world are pounding cold war drums -- will they escalate? -- against Russia. And it's Holy Week.

The late great Fr. Crouse has this to say about Maundy Thursday, after first reminding us that friendship doesn't easily occur between unequals.

We are friends of God, because his grace makes us so. He makes us god-like, and grants us the equality of friends, the proportional equality of sons. "Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God." (1 John 3.1)

That is the friendship which Christians call "charity," the very bond of peace and of all virtues. It is the friendship which binds us to God, and unites us to one another in the new commandment of love, "Fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of God." (Ephesians 2.19) And as friends, we must do as friends do: we delight in God's presence, we rejoice in our conversation with him, and find comfort in his consolations. As friends we care for all that is his. We seek to do his will as free men, not as slaves. "For we are in love," says St. Thomas, "and it is from love we act, not from servile fear."

Well said. You can read the whole thing here.

God bless,

LSP