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"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest..But I am a worm and not a man, scorned by everyone, despised by the people. All who see me mock me; they hurl insults..."
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Collect for Good Friday
"Almighty God, we pray you graciously to behold this your family, for whom our Lord Jesus Christ was willing to be betrayed, and given into the hands of sinners, and to suffer death upon the cross; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen." -The Book of Common Prayer
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"The Final Days of Jesus: Friday"
A short video highlighting the events of Good Friday.
Details of a Roman crucifixion and the necessity of Christ's suffering are discussed.
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"Passio" by Arvo Part (1982)
A seventy-minute modern cantata based on the Passion narrative from the Gospel of John. The oratorio focuses on Jesus, Pilate, and John the beloved. Arvo Part is an Estonian composer well known for his deep Christian faith and contemplative "chant-like" melodies stemming from Eastern Orthodox musical traditions.
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"The Lament of the Mother of God" by John Tavener
Lyrics
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Ecce Homo
by Andrew Hudgins (from a collection of poems titled The Never Ending)
Christ bends, protects his groin. Thorns gouge
his forehead, and his legs
are stippled with dried blood. The part of us
that’s Pilate says, Behold the man.
We glare at that bound, lashed,
and bloody part of us that’s Christ. We laugh, we howl,
we shout. Give us Barabbas,
not knowing who Barabbas is, not caring.
A thief? We’ll take him anyway. A drunk?
A murderer? Who cares? It’s better him
Than this pale ravaged thing, this god. Bosch knows.
His humans waver, laugh, then change to demons
as if they’re seized by epilepsy. It spreads
from eye to eye, from laugh to laugh until,
incited by the ease of going mad,
they go. How easy evil is! Dark voices sing,
You can be evil or you can be good,
but good is dull, my darling, good is dull.
And we’re convinced: How lovely evil is!
How lovely hell must be! Give us Barabbas!
Lord Pilate clears his throat and tries again:
I find no fault in this just man.
It’s more than we can bear. In gothic script
our answer floats above our upturned eyes.
O crucify, we sing. O crucify him!
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