Good Friday

“Darkness. Emptiness. There is nothing left. That is how it must have been for the disciples. For his friends. Dark. Empty. He was dead. All their hopes were shattered. . . . On Good Friday no one thought about Easter, because Easter hadn’t happened yet, and no one could dream of such an impossible reality.” (Madeleine L’Engle, The Irrational Season)

During my childhood on Good Friday any time not spent in church during the three hours had to be spent in quiet. My parents knew that it was good for us kids to get the feel of darkness, emptiness, sorrow. We learned to “feel with Jesus.” But we knew the end of the story. Fullness.  Light. Life. Hope. We knew the hour of darkness would give way to the dawn of Christ’s day. We were eager to hear: “Come now!  The Risen Lord calls us into his marvelous light!”