"Good Friday is the day when you can do nothing. Bewailing and lamenting our manifold sins does not in itself make up for them. Scouring your soul in a frenzy of spring cleaning only sterilizes it; it does not give life. On Good Friday, finally, we are all, mourners and mockers alike, reduced to the same impotence. Someone else is doing the terrible work that gives life to the world.” –Virginia Stem Owens
My friends disappoint me. They sleep while I sweat blood. Friends will always disappoint, as I regularly disappoint them. That is the sad truth about living in a broken world. We all fall pathetically short of being for each other in the way that we should. We lack the words, the acts, the time it takes to demonstrate to our friends that they are not alone in the world. We are cowards.
I will never get used to the fact that at the very center of the Christian faith we hear the cry of the godforsaken Christ. His friends have scattered. He speaks parting words of derelection. God is silent. How can he endure it? At the end, he must. I join in his death cry and await with him his resurrection.