This Sunday we enter Passiontide, the last two weeks of Lent. The monks hidden in the desert would return to their monasteries, the fast would intensify, and preparations for Holy Week would begin. We prepare to enter into an experience of fear, desolation and abandonment, alongside Christ and his disciples. It seems impossible to celebrate Easter fully without living through the passion and the incidents of Holy Week.
Tony Campolo, the Christian writer and speaker, once wrote a book titled, ‘It's Friday but Sunday's Comin', which I remember from my teenage years. It had a powerful message of hope and promise:
It’s Friday… Jesus was nailed dead on a cross.
But it’s only Friday; Sunday’s coming!
It’s Friday… Mary’s crying her eyes out ‘cause her Jesus is dead.
But it’s only Friday; Sunday’s coming!
It’s Friday… The disciples are running around like sheep without a shepherd.
But it’s only Friday; Sunday’s coming!
But we get ahead of ourselves. Today's gospel reading is about the foreshadowing of Jesus' own death, told in the story of Lazarus, Mary and Martha. Read the story for yourself (John 11.1-45). Jesus wept alongside the sisters, because, although he knew that the week does not end on a Friday, the lived human experience demands a compassionate response. And whilst we know that this trial might feel like the end, the week does not end on a Friday. Lazarus was raised from the dead, but only to die again one day. Today, and this season, might feel like the perpetual Friday with its abandonment, desolation and fear. But we are not Friday people, this is not our day. We are Sunday people, and Sunday is coming. Through the darkest hour, resurrection is the promise. We are Sunday people, and Alleluia is our song!
Revd Nick Bird
