“Good Friday is a day of sorrow mingled with joy. It is a time to grieve over the sin of man and to meditate and rejoice upon God’s love in giving His only Son for the redemption of sin.”
— David Katsk
How easy it is to go about our lives, focused on our own agendas, oblivious to the fact that there is so much more to every moment of our lives than what our senses perceive. We need to take time to pause, to reflect, to ask our good God to open our spiritual eyes to what is really real. The church calendar builds such times into every year. But sometimes I get to the end of days like Good Friday and realize, if I think about it at all, that I have let the stuff of life get in the way. Today was, in many ways, such a day. Yet our Lord would not let Himself be forgotten. He is so good!
Time with John’s Aunt Diana was sweet. She is a treasure, and it is sad to see her so weak. But her kindness and her sense of humor are still there. Her faith seems strong. And we enjoyed our carry-out lunch with her, sitting under a huge mesquite tree in her back yard, hearing about her life. She has such a caring heart. John says, “She’s been collecting stray cats and dogs, and stray people, as long as I’ve known her.” That’s quite a tribute!
Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “Good Friday and Easter free us to think about other things far beyond our own personal fate, about the ultimate meaning of all life, suffering, and events; and we lay hold of a great hope.” Being with Aunt Diana, knowing she has not much longer to live, on Good Friday especially, is a bittersweet reminder to me to think of such things. I want to hold in my heart times that are “good”. I want, at times, to freeze time, to not move forward. But I know what lies ahead, on the other side of suffering and death, is so much better! We must move on!
When Aunt Diana tired, we still had a good bit of the day left. John’s sister Alisa decided to spend the rest of the day with us. So we set off for Hereford, AZ to visit the Shrine of Our Lady of the Sierras.
This beautiful, peaceful place is located on the side of one of the mountains in the Huachuca Range. Getting to it requires quite a steep climb. Blessedly, there were men directing parking who allowed us to drive almost all the way to the top. I’m certain I couldn’t have physically made the climb.
We arrived during Good Friday services in the chapel, and I had an opportunity after the service to visit the icon of Christ in the Tomb.
I cannot express how moving this was for me. Although I did not openly cry, I could not hold back the tears of my soul. The image of Christ, dead in the tomb, pierced my heart. I would ask you to pause here and reflect…
After coming down off the mountain, we set off for a winery in Tombstone, AZ. Tombstone is…well, how can I put it? Just envision every Wild West cliche you can imagine, and you’ll have a good grasp on Tombstone. Alisa and I enjoyed a wine tasting while John strolled around taking pictures. The wine was delicious. The people were a hoot. And the contrast to Our Lady of the Sierras couldn’t have been more stark.
Isn’t this the way we live our lives so often? Mindless of eternity? Heedless of the deeper things of life? Like children playing…
“Good Friday is the mirror held up by Jesus,” wrote Robert G. Trache, “so that we can see ourselves in all our stark reality, and then it turns us to the cross and to his eyes and we hear these words, ‘Father forgive them for they know not what they do.’ That’s us!”
We decided on dinner at a favorite restaurant of Alisa’s in Tucson. We were pretty hungry by this time. But on the way we stumbled upon Holy Trinity Monastery in St. David, AZ. I knew about this place, but was unsure where it was. And then, suddenly, there was a huge Benedictine cross.
John and his sister were gracious enough to stop, and we spent a delightful half hour exploring. As soon as I walked into the chapel, I felt at home. I could have stayed for hours. The prayer garden, the cross, and the peacocks! What can I say? The peace of the place goes bone deep. I simply must come back. It is one of those “thin places” where the mundane touches the Holy.
We did eventually make it to Tucson, to La Parilla Suiza, where I enjoyed a delicious green corn tamal. The live mariachi band was incredible, but conversation was necessarily limited. It’s tough to hear anything else when a trumpeter is standing right next to you! The young man playing the harp was amazing. He didn’t even look at the strings.
By the time we made it back to Benson, I was flat out exhausted. So I’m actually writing this on Saturday morning. I’ll leave you with this message from a surprising source:
“God did not bear the cross only 1900 years ago, but he bears it today, and he dies and is resurrected from day to day. It would be poor comfort to the world if it had to depend upon a historical God who died 2000 years ago. Do not then preach the God of history, but show Him as He lives today through you.”
— Mahatma Gandhi