I Hate Lent (but I like Good Friday)

I really hate the season of Lent. I've hated it for a long time. But I've written about that before.

I did a Google search a while back on the phrase "i hate lent" and mainly got posts about how people say they hate Lent, but just don't understand it, or those really misleading articles where someone says the opposite of what they mean. ("I hate Lent... blah blah blah... so that's why I love Lent.") Bleh!

The thing is, I really do hate the season of Lent.

Really.

If it weren't for the fact that Northminster traditionally celebrates communion each Sunday during Lent, I'd probably just stay home for those Sundays. (Actually, last year, when Northminster  to celebrate communion every other Sunday during Lent, I worshiped the other Sundays at a church that did.)

But I really like Good Friday. I know, there's all the death and darkness, and even a good helping of the hypocrisy that's there for the rest of Lent. But Good Friday is different for me. And last night, I. think I figured out why.

On Good Friday, Jesus is here.

I know, Jesus is always here, but Good Friday is different.

In Lent, if Jesus shows up in the "story of Lent" at all, he's wandering in the desert, telling the Devil what for. He's there by himself.

Good Friday is different. Jesus is not there. He's here, on the cross, in the tomb. Here. In the grave with so many people I love, so many people I might have loved if I met them. Here with me in death when it comes my time.

Here with the people all over the world who suffer for being who they are, for loving who they love, for saying what they say, for standing with the powerless instead of bowing to the powerful. Here with the people who screw up, who find themselves alone when they need someone, who think there is no God, who think God hates them.

Good Friday is different from the rest of Lent because Jesus shows us just how much God is willing to do through to pull us, to pull me, into God's arms.

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