When it was noon, darkness came over the whole land. —Mark 15.33
I have always struggled to understand why today is called Good Friday. What I think would be more appropriate: switch names with Black Friday (the big day of shopping on Friday after Thanksgiving). Call the shopping day Good Friday, and the day of Jesus’ torture and death Black Friday.
But nobody consulted me, so today is Good Friday… the day violence won and the Prince of Peace was slaughtered. Irony seems to ride shotgun with violence these days (or maybe it always has). The biggest non-nuclear bomb our country has goes by the nickname “Mother Of All Bombs,” MOAB. Motherhood and death machines?
And then you have newscasters calling missile attacks beautiful. Brian Williams recently said, “We see these beautiful pictures at night from the decks of these two Navy vessels in the eastern Mediterranean… I am tempted to quote the great Leonard Cohen: ‘I’m guided by the beauty of our weapons.’”
The most recent bombing inspired this eager statement from Geraldo Rivera, “Well one of my favorite things in the 16 years I’ve been here at Fox News is watching bombs drop…”
That statement almost sounds like a slight lyrical revision to the old classic Sound of Music tune in the voice of Julie Andrews …
Raindrops on roses
And whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Bombs leveling destruction and missiles as they scream
These are a few of my favorite things
Perhaps we shouldn’t be so gleeful. Maybe bombs aren’t good—just like this Friday isn’t really good.
I know that my own death machines (usually destructive words and attitudes—but sometimes actual violence against people or things) don’t bring me joy.
They don’t make my life bright and full of color and sound. Instead, they cloak my world in a heavy, dark fog. They do not inspire joyful sounding songs. Instead, they shroud me in shame.
When Christ was hung on the cross, a darkness covered the land for some three hours. I imagine there wasn’t the sound of celebratory songs during this great smog. Perhaps it was quiet… enough silence and heavy darkness to strike fear in the depths of everyone’s soul. What have we done?
If you have Netflix, I’m sure you’ve seen their original series The Crown about… Read More