Holy Week 2020 ~ My Best Friend

Greetings Dear Reader,

Most of us have that one friend.  You are close and share many things that are vital to life.  Today we look at the day through the eyes of Jesus’ closest friend, the Apostle John.

It is possible that John was a cousin to Jesus.  It is true that they shared the kind of love that all men need.  We need to remember that among this group of men, expressing genuine brotherly love for each other was not a problem.  My first takeaway from this is that we all need to be better at showing pure loving affection for our fellow travelers.

John was among those who could not stay awake in the garden.  His best friend held great grief and it is part of the progress that John records as Jesus grows further and further isolated whilst heading toward the cross.  Even John did not stay with Jesus.

From his own narrative, we can conclude that like Peter he is standing in the crowd watching the spectacle at the palace.  He sees each step of the transformation as his best friend is bearded, beaten, and crowned.  He hears Peter deny Jesus.  He hears the crowing rooster.  We must say that John is complicit in Peter’s denial because he does not step forward to claim Jesus.  John witnesses the flogging that would kill most men.  He sees Pilate wash his hands of the Master and again joins in by keeping silent while the crowd calls for Jesus’ death.

The next time we know he sees Jesus is the morning of the crucifixion.  Perhaps he follows his best friend with the jeering spitting crowd through Jerusalem.  When Jesus falls his best friend does not step forward to carry his cross and follow.  All the other Apostles are missing at the top of the hill.  The clouds of that morning are already gathering to herald the coming darkness.  The sound of hammers driving nails into wood echoes across the Place of the Skull. 

Mary and some of the other women are there and see that John is present.  The bloodied beaten God raises up on his lonely tower, now fully isolated from all of us and approaching the most wretched isolation anyone has ever endured.  He speaks to John, charging his best friend with caring for his mother. 

He sees the sign affixed to his best friend’s lonely tower, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.”  He hears the Pharisees grumble about what it says and some of them run off to complain to Pilate.  He sees the darkness gather.  He hears the Water of Life, the one who honored handing out cold water in his name, say, “I thirst.”  It is too late for John to offer him water.  He sees one of the soldiers show more mercy than usual by offering to dull Jesus’ senses with gall.  Jesus refuses.

Even facing the final isolation, Jesus offers hope and mercy to the thief beside him.  The darkness, the isolation, and time reach their fullness.  John hears his best friend call out, “Father, Father, why have you forsaken me?”   Within a short time, he thirsts again and the last thing Jesus takes in is the sour vinegar of old wine.  Perhaps John recalls the best wine he has ever had was provided by his friend at a wedding in Cana. 

The Man of Sorrows hanging on his lonely tower is completely alone now.  His best friend watches as the tattered bloodied God raises his eyes one last time.  “It is complete,” he manages and then slips away into the deep daytime darkness.  The lot is cast on which is wagered the future of us all. 

John sees his best friend die, feels the earthquake, and knows he has not acted like a best friend this day.  He and the women leave to find a way to bury Jesus before the sunset.  On this Sabbath, they will bury their dead God before the night folds its wings and descends.  John must live with his actions or inaction.  It is Friday.  Without faith, there is no hope, Dear Reader.  It is Friday and John does not know that the Temple veil is torn.  It is Friday and John must care for Jesus’ weeping mother.  It is Friday and John will have to face the rest of the Apostles at dinner and relive the day in telling them of it.  It is Friday and John has lost his best friend.  It is the darkest deadliest Friday…

A Little More Like Me (The Crucifixion) – Kenny Rogers

It was an April night and I was right
Went out on the town
The show was at the palace
So we all went on down

We all had a ball as I recall
But now it seems absurd
As the madness raged upon the stage
He didn't say a word

He was a little weird and we all feared
He wasn't one of us
He didn't drink, he didn't smoke
And he didn't even cuss

You'd see him now and then
With a bunch of men hanging around the sea
And I'm sure I would have liked him more
If he were a little more like me

It was a springish each day
The clouds were gray
Looked like it might rain
Thought about the night before
And I was so ashamed

When I heard what they had done to him
A stranger I had known
But as drunk as we all got last night
It's a wonder we got home

He was a little weird and we all feared
He wasn't one of us
He didn't drink, he didn't smoke
And he didn't even cuss

You'd see him now and then
With a bunch of men hanging around the sea
And I'm sure I would have liked him more
If he were a little more like me

And I'm sure I would have liked him more
If he were a little more like me

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a homeowner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Every human story is part of the great story that leads to the Father getting everything back to Good.

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