Tag Archives: Triduum

Good Friday

I remember the weeks leading up to Ellia’s birth. We had never been parents before. We read the What to Expect…books. We read books on cuddle cures and feeding schedules, on positive discipline and shepherding children’s hearts. We took birthing classes and parenting classes. We talked to friends and mentors, people who had been there before, to try to figure out what we should do. And then, the day came. Ellia was born. You can talk about theory; you can talk about concepts. But there’s a time to put analysis to the side and just be.

The cross is arguably the most considered object in Christian history. And rightly so. The cross is the heart of the Jesus Truth and the Jesus Way. Paul spent the bulk of the space in his letters considering the significance of the cross for the communities he had helped to begin. What happened on the cross? What was God up to? Why did Jesus have to die?

We deal with concepts like atonement, substitution, reconciliation, redemption, freedom. And this is fine. We need to do that heavy lifting analytical work. That’s part of our theological tradition.

But the discipline of the liturgical calendar reminds us that we’re not simply recipients of a divine transaction; we’re pilgrims with Christ. The cross is not simply an object to be analyzed and preached; it’s a subject that exists in its own space and preaches its own message.

So this Good Friday, I’d invite you to leave analysis of the crucifixion for another day. For today, be there. Be with Jesus. Be the beloved disciple who’s standing with the women at the foot of the cross. Be the mother of Jesus, gazing on as her beloved child struggles to breathe. Hear the final words of Jesus.

Don’t be too quick to draw theological conclusions like how Jesus is doing this for me or about the amazing grace displayed on the cross. There will be time to come to those sorts of (correct) doctrines in the months and weeks ahead. Instead, for today, lean in to the darkness of the moment.

When it comes to parenting, I believe deeply in figuring out how you’re going to parent: reading good parenting books, talking to other parents, figuring out with your spouse how to deal with this or that discipline issue. But the moment your child is born is not the time for analysis. Instead, it’s the time to be a parent. It’s time to be present, to feel, to lean in.

Good Friday is a day to lean in to the darkness, the pain, the abandonment, the isolation, the brokenness of the cross. May you have space today to experience the depths of the cross.

Maundy Thursday

“Maundy” comes from the Latin word mandatum, which means command or mandate. This Thursday we remember the mandatum nova, the new command: “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:34-­35 NRSV).

It’s interesting that Jesus calls it a new commandment. Surely there isn’t anything new in a command that says to love one another. We could find verse after verse of commands in the Old Testament that insist on care and love of the other, the neighbor, the stranger, the poor. The Hebrew Torah is essentially concerned with these two concepts: love of God and love of neighbor (which Jesus of course quotes as his summation of the law). And love of the other is certainly not a strictly Christian or Jewish concept. Ever major religion of the world teaches some form of love for others.

So what’s so new about this command in John 13? I don’t think what’s new is the command to love another. I think what’s new is the qualifier: just as I have loved you. That’s what’s new.

In Jesus, we don’t just love one another; we love one another as Jesus loved us. With a basin and towel. On our hands and our knees. Against what’s expected in our culture. To the point of giving ourselves up for one another. We don’t just have a command in the form of words on a page; the command is now written in the obedience of the Son. And his obedience is emphatically now our example to follow (John 13:15).

Today we remember that Jesus didn’t just come to die. Yes, of course, he came to die. But he also came to establish a community of people who would embody the kind of self-giving love that he left behind for them to show. That’s why Thursday is so important. If we skip Thursday and jump straight to Friday, we could be tempted to think Jesus just came to punch our ticket to heaven. But his death is so much more than that. It’s our gift to receive, yes; but it’s also our example to follow. Lesslie Newbigin liked to remind us that Jesus never wrote a book; he formed a community. The community of the crucified.

May we take up the basin and the towel to serve the world Jesus came to love. May we take up our cross to give ourselves away for the world Jesus came to love.