Good Friday: My God, My God, Why Have You Forsaken Me?

Part of the Communion In Times Of Coronavirus series of gentle reflections
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Inderjit Bhogal, 2020
Updated May 2020

He was awake.

Didn’t sleep.

It was his time of prayer, around five in the morning, it was still dark.

“Father not my will, but yours”, his constant mantra, and all through the night.

No time for ablutions, not even a wash, and no morning drink.

He is bound, and handed over for trial.

He stands, bound, thirsty, hungry, before blokes who hope they will not be kept long from coffee.

There are false accusations, and inquisition.

There is no charge.

Only the derision of “Crucify him”.

No “Hosanna” here.

The Holy City is trapped in “Jealousy”.

He is no King!

He may be their Saviour, but he is not our King.

End his reign quickly.

Born in a Stable, he is bullied in a Palace;

mocked in fun behind closed doors;

No reassuring hand, no word in his favour;

alone, with witnesses who willed an end to the madness, helpless.

Pilate washes his hands of the whole business, and leaves.

The dictator unable to handle obvious mistakes.

“Then they led him out to crucify him”.

Exhausted, breathing but out of breath,

he needs help to carry the cross.

Witnesses stand around, some look away.

Simeon, just passing by, is “compelled” to share the pain, carry the cross.

Veronica wipes his brow.

Jesus alone will carry the weight and meaning of the moment, every step of the way.

“And they crucified him”, on a hill, for all to see, amid criminals,

and stole and divided his clothes without shame.

It is only nine in the morning.

Others passed by, and mocked him.

“He saved others he cannot save himself”.

A slow six hours of torture, hanging on a gibbet.

“Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?”

 “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” his only utterance.

Absorbed, never forgotten prayer of the Son of God.

Then a loud wordless cry, and he “breathed his last” breath.

Pierced and broke his mother’s heart.

She wept and held him at his birth, and now at his death, always her baby.

Joseph of Arimathea, “a respected member of the council” comes forward.

He stood and witnessed this whole tale, helpless,

“he was also himself waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God”.

Joseph, his father’s namesake, “asked for the body of Jesus”, and buried him.

Son of God or not, no lavish funeral for Jesus.

Buried with dignity, the evening he died.

Obscure birth and then burial in a cave,

in the company of his mother Mary.

True mother, Jesus was always her son.

Gospel writers mention names of four others who were present at the burial.

No Priest for prayers.

Jesus’ prayer continues.

Your Kingdom come.

Your will be done.

The Kingdom and the Will of God is symbolised in the cross of Christ,

The power that gives life and liberates is the power given away.

Jesus and his Way will live and will give life and direction to others for ever.

Inderjit Bhogal

10 April 2020 GOOD FRIDAY (Updated May 2020)

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