That’s a question I’m frequently asked at this time of year, as an Episcopal priest and leader of St. Dunstan’s, a middle-sized congregation in Bethesda. As Easter approaches, I also field queries about other strange Holy Week customs: “Why do we strip the altar on Maundy Thursday…and why is it called “Maundy Thursday?” “Why do we read the Passion of Jesus as a drama…and why does the congregation have to speak the part of the crowd, saying “Crucify him!”
Saturday’s Washington Post (March 8, 2008) described a “new” phenomenon among some Evangelicals – a resurgence of the ancient Christian practices of regular Holy Communion, observance of liturgical seasons such as Lent, monastic communities, and even the revival of Confession (albeit in a strange internet version).
I am an Episcopalian. We in the more liturgical branches of the Church smile and say to ourselves, “Yes, of course. How else do Christians walk the path that Jesus walked, and join him in his journey through death into new life?”
We are seeing a revival of many ancient spiritual practices, not only in Christianity but in other religious traditions, and in people who profess no religious faith at all. The hunger for a spiritual life of peace is pervasive in an America troubled by wars abroad, economic catastrophe at home, and an ever-rising tide of anxiety about our future wellbeing.
I rejoice that more and more people are rediscovering the ancient tools of Christian spirituality – the practices of daily prayer, meditation, seasons, and sacraments, which gently guide our steps in the way of Jesus. We in the more traditional churches have been gathering for daily prayer, weekly Communion, and the annual rituals of the Church year all along. We know their richness and their power.
At this most holy time for Christians, we walk the way of the Cross – Jesus’ final confrontation with the powers of this world, the powers of evil. Jesus raises only one weapon in this battle: the sword of love. It is a love so great and so generous that this sword cuts through every enemy, even death itself. When we walk with Christ into crucifixion, we join him also in his resurrection. This is how Christians can say, “The way of the Cross is the Way of Life.”
So, what’s so good about Good Friday? It’s certainly not good that a good and innocent man was tortured and hung on a cross to die. What is good here is God’s gracious act of self-giving for our sakes. It is the same goodness which inspired Harry Potter’s mother Lily to sacrifice her life to save Harry’s. It is the same goodness which prompted my friend to donate his kidney for transplant to his brother. It is the same goodness from which springs all acts of generosity, self-giving, and unconditional love.
That’s what is so good about Good Friday, about Holy Week, and about the joy of Easter. The ancient Church has much to teach us about bringing this goodness into our lives, and into the world today.
I definitely sense a hunger for acknowledgment of life’s mysteries and of the mystery and beauty of God, said John Witvliet, director of the Calvin Institute of Christian worship in Grand Rapids, Michigan. “There’s a hunger for deeper engagement – ‘Don’t just sell me a product at church, but really put me in touch with the mystery and beauty of God.’ "
(Quoted in the Washington Post, March 8, 2008, p. B9)
By Jeff MacKnight, Rector of St. Dunstan’s Episcopal Church, 5450 Massachusetts Avenue, Bethesda. Join us for worship - we’re open Sundays!
Today’s stunning scriptures – the dry bones of Ezekiel, and the raising of Lazarus - bring us to the crux of the Christian message: that God brings new life out of death.
This is the fundamental question – the deepest mystery – of human existence. We can talk about how we ought to live; we can discuss what makes us healthier or sicker; we can consider what brings meaning and happiness to our lives. But all these questions are moot in the face of death.
- When our fondest dream, what we’ve hoped for and worked for, comes to naught, can we find the vitality to begin again?
- When death comes to a loved one, will we ever find new life and joy?
- Does human life simply end when our last earthly breath is taken?
These are the most important human questions. Literally, it’s a matter of life and death.
In the Hebrew scripture from Ezekiel, we see the grand spectacle of a great valley filled with dry bones – the desiccated remains of life long ended. Can these bones live? We then watch in amazement, in our mind’s eye, as the Word of God breathes new life into these bones.
Ezekiel was addressing the whole house of Israel – a house that was, in the 6th century BCE, dispersed from its land to Babylon and other foreign lands. Can this community – this house – live again?
Jesus addresses a similarly distressed Jewish community – subjugated to Roman rule, and longing for redemption and release. Lazarus’ illness and death embody the condition of the 1st century Jews – a withering, deathward existence with no hope in sight. Yet Jesus’ Word calls Ezekiel back to life. This mighty, life-giving act will result in Jesus’ own death, because some people went and told the Pharisees about it. They reveal their narrow personal interests when they ask, “What are we to do? This man is performing many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him….”
Thus, these two lessons prepare us for the Passion of our Lord in Holy Week, and the glory of the Lord at Easter.
JBM