Darkness Covered the Whole Earth

Good Friday

Luke 23:44-49 | Psalm 22 | Gospels during Lent: Matthew 27-28

No commentary.
Just read it.
(And try to find yourself with some local expression of the Church sometime today, to mark Jesus’ death together.)

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Luke 23:44-49

It was now about noon, and darkness covered the whole earth until about three o’clock, while the sun stopped shining. Then the curtain in the sanctuary tore down the middle. Crying out in a loud voice, Jesus said, “Father, into your hands I entrust my life.” After he said this, he breathed for the last time.

When the centurion saw what happened, he praised God, saying, “It’s really true: this man was righteous.” All the crowds who had come together to see this event returned to their homes beating their chests after seeing what had happened. And everyone who knew him, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance observing these things.

Psalm 22

My God! My God,
    why have you left me all alone?
    Why are you so far from saving me—
        so far from my anguished groans?
My God, I cry out during the day,
    but you don’t answer;
    even at nighttime I don’t stop.
You are the holy one, enthroned.
You are Israel’s praise.
Our ancestors trusted you—
    they trusted you and you rescued them;
    they cried out to you and they were saved;
    they trusted you and they weren’t ashamed.

But I’m just a worm, less than human;
    insulted by one person, despised by another.
All who see me make fun of me—
    they gape, shaking their heads:
    “He committed himself to the Lord,
        so let God rescue him;
        let God deliver him
        because God likes him so much.”
But you are the one who pulled me from the womb,
    placing me safely at my mother’s breasts.
I was thrown on you from birth;
    you’ve been my God
    since I was in my mother’s womb.
Please don’t be far from me,
    because trouble is near
        and there’s no one to help.

Many bulls surround me;
    mighty bulls from Bashan encircle me.
They open their mouths at me
    like a lion ripping and roaring!
I’m poured out like water.
    All my bones have fallen apart.
        My heart is like wax;
        it melts inside me.
My strength is dried up
    like a piece of broken pottery.
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth;
    you’ve set me down in the dirt of death.
Dogs surround me;
    a pack of evil people circle me like a lion—
    oh, my poor hands and feet!
I can count all my bones!
    Meanwhile, they just stare at me, watching me.
They divvy up my garments among themselves;
    they cast lots for my clothes.

But you, Lord! Don’t be far away!
    You are my strength!
    Come quick and help me!
Deliver me from the sword.
    Deliver my life from the power of the dog.
    Save me from the mouth of the lion.
    From the horns of the wild oxen
    you have answered me!

I will declare your name to my brothers and sisters;
    I will praise you in the very center of the congregation!
All of you who revere the Lord—praise him!
    All of you who are Jacob’s descendants—honor him!
    All of you who are all Israel’s offspring—
        stand in awe of him!
Because he didn’t despise or detest
    the suffering of the one who suffered—
    he didn’t hide his face from me.
    No, he listened when I cried out to him for help.

I offer praise in the great congregation
    because of you;
    I will fulfill my promises
    in the presence of those who honor God.
Let all those who are suffering eat and be full!
    Let all who seek the Lord praise him!
        I pray your hearts live forever!
Every part of the earth
    will remember and come back to the Lord;
    every family among all the nations will worship you.
Because the right to rule belongs to the Lord,
    he rules all nations.
Indeed, all the earth’s powerful
    will worship him;
    all who are descending to the dust
    will kneel before him;
    my being also lives for him.
Future descendants will serve him;
    generations to come will be told about my Lord.
They will proclaim God’s righteousness
        to those not yet born,
        telling them what God has done.

Prayer

God,

Dagnabbit! Every Good Friday I get to this point and wonder what I should do. Did I read enough of the passion story in the Bible? Should I read it twice? Memorize it? How do I truly plumb the depths of Jesus’ death on the cross? Double my measly amount of time in prayer? Should I go to two Tenebrae services? I really struggle with it.

I’m sure there’s some space I should spend with someone discussing my feelings that I need to compensate for what you have done. I know I can’t. But I still feel like I need to.

So help me, God:

(See…even saying “So help me, God” makes me feel badly…how could I possibly ask for more than what you’ve already done!?)

Nonetheless, so help me, God:

Help me to receive Jesus’ death for what it is.
For the world.
For the Church.
For me.

By your spirit & in Christ,
Amen.