Good Friday is my favourite holy day. It all started back in Providence at Grace Church where I fell in love with the Seven Last Words. This is a three hour event of solemn contemplation interspersed with sermons on the seven things Christ reportedly said from the cross. Each sermon has a song and a reading that goes with it. But best parts are the large swathes of silence in between each sermon, song, and reading. It really gives you time to contemplate. When in Chicago last year I had no trouble finding an Episcopal Church doing it. But until now I had not found it here in London, at least not at the parish level. I finally found something vaguely resembling it (minus the large swathes of silence) at St Paul’s. It was a Three Hour Devotion called Seeing in the Dark: The Poetry of The Passion. The poems and sermons were amazing. Thanks to the Reverend Canon Mark Oakley, I have now a selection of inspiring poetry to read.
Canon Oakley reminds us that in the age of bumper-sticker theology, true faith is nuanced and ever-changing... and that poetry is better equipped to deal with ideas like suffering, faith, and compassion than any literal edict. Another cool thing about poetry is that the same poem will speak completely differently to different people. That flexibility allows each of us to find that unique piece of the spiritual puzzle that each of us is missing as an individual. Looking at the wonderful diversity of Christian faith over time through poetry rekindled what drew me to Christianity in the first place: Its potential as a force for compassion.
One of the reasons why I like Good Friday so much is that the Almighty suffers just like we do. During my work at hospital, I witness some people whose daily suffering makes the three hours on the cross seem like a walk in the park. I also witness some overcome that suffering even though nearly everything has been taken from them. These people experience a resurrection of sorts that is individually more miraculous than anything in the Bible. Perhaps I am oddly comforted by the Almighty suffering because it opens up my heart to be compassionate toward Him. Worshiping a God who allows suffering of those who are clearly not equipped for it is no easy task. But when I visualise Him on the cross, I naturally want to relieve that suffering, just like I want to relieve the suffering of all who need hospital. It draws out the compassion in my soul; it draws out my humanity. And it encourages me to keep giving of myself and of my compassion. I know that what I am saying doesn’t make any sense. The poets explain it much better:
Photo Credits: Ruthwell Cross, St Pauls
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