So Much Younger a Year Ago
GOOD FRIDAY
AM Psalm 95* & 22 • PM Psalm 40:1-14(15-19), 54
Wisdom 1:16-2:1,12-22 or Gen. 22:1-14 • 1 Peter 1:10-20 • John 13:36-38 or John 19:38-42
* for the Invitatory
On April 14, 2020, in the folly of my youth, this is how I concluded my Morning Reflection for the second day after Easter: “A month and a half from now, or two, or three, having overcome our lonelinesses through the miracle of internet, we will come forth, like Jesus bursting from the tomb, and worship together with hugs and handshakes of peace because we are an Easter people.”
Since then more than twelve months have lapsed; our bodies and spirits have aged years more than this chronological year; we are not bursting forth. More than a half million of us Americans have died from the Coronavirus, plus the uncounted number who have died of anxiety or loneliness or because the national crisis prevented or discouraged them from getting proper medical attention. Many are sicker now than they thought possible a year ago. It may take another year for children younger than sixteen to receive vaccinations. Today some of us will celebrate the Eucharist at St. Paul's Church, not hugging or exchanging handshakes of peace. Others will be virtually joining these on-site celebrants as they process in, singing the Good Friday Miserere, and as we all anticipate Easter Sunday, when, in spite of all tribulations, Jesus will burst from the tomb.
I had not considered how much pain and effort it must have taken Jesus, even after the agony of the cross, to burst from the tomb.
Lord have mercy.
I did not foresee that, hesitating, bleary eyed, and masked, we would come wandering out, a few at a time. I did not consider how much more clearly we would be seeing the Suffering Christ in the changed faces of our neighbors.
Christ have mercy.
I did not consider that it would be our job to remake ourselves an Easter people, our responsibility to serve the people of this poor world when we finally came forth.
Lord have mercy.
Written by John DuVal
In early March John and his Dante class finally finished with the Inferno and began the long, slow climb up Mount Purgatory.