Good Friday 2024

I am here and now in the multiverse. I imagine that the cross has been made and is waiting for Jesus to carry it along the Via Dolorosa.  The tale of Government, Church and World authority falsely accusing, betraying, torturing, beating and humiliating the Son of God who came to earth to teach and heal is in the DNA.  My mother taught me to pray on my knees beside my bed beside her, sharing faith and love.  My Dad joked and said he belonged to the Round Church where there weren’t any corners that the devil could catch him in.  

Tonight all creation past, present, and future with be rent with the sigh of the dying human, Jesus.  In years gone by I have felt more religious, more ‘with it’ spiritually.Today there’s a conventionality and less emotionality of the prodigal son.  It’s less I was lost and now I’m found than it is the footprints in the sand. I still love Phillips Book, Your God is Too Small.

Yesterday I picked up From Black Land to Fifth Sun , the book by Fagan about sacred places.

I have been blessed to have been to London, Rome and Jerusalem. It was as important as my visit to Maguerafelt and Aberdeen.  Perhaps the whole of earth feels holy compared to other planets though an infinite number of Jesus may have incarnated everywhere and every when. Or this is a shattered holographic plate or minuscule strand of DNA.  The microcosm and microcosm.  

Jesus prays this day preparing to do his Father’s will, truthfully, not relatively truthfully but truthfully, no approximation but fateful and determined wedding the free will of Creator and creation.  

I am small and vulnerable and find solace in Good Friday.  Maybe with my death I’ll rent the skies and conquer hell and rise to heaven showing my friends my scars before I fly.  Good Friday is more relatable with the cur Trudeau our Local Herod throwing taxes and police at us Canadians and using his troops to trample with horse peaceful demonstrators. I suppose Biden is Pontius Pilote and perhaps Xi Jin Ping or Putin is.  Any one of them might be Tiberius.  Tiberius , Roman Emperor at the time of the Crucifixion of Jesus and the boss of Pontius Pilate and superior to Herod, he doesn’t get the phlegm he deserves.  The fear of authority on earth is such that the ‘middle management’ Pontinus Pilate gets blamed while Tiberius is not on the front lines, a back room leader, a money man, maybe Klaus or Gates or Rothschild , some person who can keep their name out of the records so the Pope, Constantine the direct descendent of the Roman Empire and Tiberius, can be whitewashed. The winner writes history.

The times were worse than today with Baccanalia, animal sex and scenes to make the Kardasians Blush, the Roman Empire so much more refined that the courts of Atilla the Hun, Gheghis Khan, Sultans andd Moguls, Pagan superstions,and later Mohamed and worst of all the godless communist murderers Lenin and Mao with their execution chambers for innoscents and intelligent .  Like the gas chambers of Auschwitz for Jews,  Gypsy’s, Polish and homosexuals by the nightmare Hitler, a little man, a corporal .  All of this is within for the past is gone like degraded computer memories.  Zeros and ones in binary codes  dissipate with time.

There is only now. This day, Good Friday.  I will move through it and feel nauseous with the pain and suffering, the crown of thorns and look forward with the faith my mother shared and hope Easter Sunday. I love the trumpets and cries of ‘hallelujah! He is risen!’  but now much reflect on the cross.

Jesus was the good son. Like my brother. I’ve been the black sheep all my life. The prodigal son. Much loved and blessed. Not too ironically as my parents saved my life countless times when I was young I saved my parents life when they were old. The circles are more truth as they spiral like twin helixes while we kid ourselves with snippet linearity or old Jerusalem and New Jerusalem. Meanwhile the Buddhists with nihilism and black humor chuckle at the ego and seeking the Hindu self beyond maya and desire.  I am the river make me the sea.  We go to God. Somehow  here we gather stuff ,  circumstance and storage lockers and clothing,  yet we come naked and go naked.  The worm turns.  I am Thee not this.  I choose. You choose.

This Day God died and rose again like the sun with night and day like impermanence. There is science and adventures and travel bit nothing permanent save God. .  And  perhaps taxes.  The oldest law is the Chinese Law of the Fish: there are big fish and little fish. The little fish must be fast and numerous. 

I’m not so fast with age but there may be an infinite number of me. Larvae and caterpillar and butterfly. Competing sperm and egg. Gulags and prisons can’t keep me anymore than Jesus, My Lord.  The Bible is the most banned book.  It’s is the most dangerous book.  Not the Old Testament, the old news,  but the Gospel.  The Good News.  

Jesus was a Jew killed by Jews.  God was a god that killed God.  Ouroborus.  A tale of wine and wafer. This is my blood shed for you. The sacrifice. . The illusions of light and shadow.  Here in the darknesss of Good Friday I am alone and confused and could easily deny my maker till the rooster cried .  I don’t listen. 

I am a sinner, that magic word that archer’s used to say they ‘missed the mark’. I am not a perfect shot. I’m a good man, good enough perhaps, struggling and trying and falling and getting up like the toddler I am. A baby really. I’m facing the time when fitted sheets and beds beckon.  I will go gentle into that still night. I will end the long dark night of the soul.  And some time today the universe will rent.   I will feel the depth of human failure like the Mariana Trench. 

I will cry , Eli, Eli Lama sabachtthani. My God, My God Why hast thou forsaken me.  And I will pray that I am here this Sunday.

Thank you Jesus. Thank you God.  Thank you Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.