{"id":6536,"date":"2020-07-04T18:34:03","date_gmt":"2020-07-04T08:34:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/?p=6536"},"modified":"2020-07-04T18:34:05","modified_gmt":"2020-07-04T08:34:05","slug":"two-processions","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/two-processions\/","title":{"rendered":"Two Processions"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/div>\n

Two Processions<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Guest post by Becoming fully\nalive blog site<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

Well, He\u2019s dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In\nthe end, they took Him and nailed him to a cross, watched Him suffocate under\nthe weight of His own body, and then stabbed Him to make sure He was dead. Then\neverything seemed to go mad; the Veil of the Temple split down the middle,\nblasphemously revealing the Holy of Holies. The earth started shaking and the\nancient dead burst from their tombs, as though strolling around Jerusalem\nwas the most natural thing in the world after a thousand years of bodily\ndecay. They say that if you put your ear to the ground, you can hear the whole\nnetherworld beginning to creak and shudder; the dead are waking up, and the\nDevil is screaming.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\nall seems a lot of fuss for one dead man. You can see Him there, moving down\nthe path toward His tomb. He\u2019s the bleeding bundle of cloth at the front of the\ngroup. The man holding His feet is Nicodemus; one of the wealthiest men in\nJerusalem. The man holding His shoulders is Joseph of Arimathea. That woman\nbehind them, the one who can\u2019t seem to stop crying, is called Mary. She comes\nfrom Magdala, and unlike Joseph and Nicodemus, she is not the religious type.\nWe don\u2019t know much about her, but we do know that when she first met her\nTeacher, her body was home to no less than seven spiritual parasites. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

They were old, terrible\ncreatures who fed off her misery and desperation. Back then, she had  plentiful stores of both, though we don\u2019t know\nprecisely why. Perhaps she had done terrible things or terrible things had been\ndone to her. At any rate, she was not what anyone would call a \u201cpillar of\nrespectability,\u201d and it hadn\u2019t helped her Teacher\u2019s reputation to have her\nhanging around. But He was the one who freed her. All seven of her demonic\ntormentors had screamed and fled when He came along, and they never came back.\nSince then, she has followed Him; and she follows even now, when all that\u2019s\nleft to follow is a bleeding corpse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There are others walking with\nthem, following the blood-soaked bundle that was their Teacher. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Surprisingly,\nyou are present too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You\u2019re\npart of your own procession, a larger one, invisibly leading Joseph, Nicodemus\nand their bloody bundle of linen towards the tomb. Your procession is headed by\ngolden crosses on poles and at the very back, just in front of Joseph and\nNicodemus, men are carrying icons of Jesus\u2019 burial and crucifixion, being\ncensed by bearded priests wearing golden cloaks. Although there are more people\nin your procession than in the ancient one behind you, yours is a good deal\nless serious. Where Joseph and the Mary\u2019s are burying a brutally murdered\nFriend, you are attending a religious festival. The atmosphere is solemn\nenough, with the icons and the incense and gold crosses on poles, but in your procession\npeople are distracted, occasionally chatting to one another, making quick\nremarks about Uncle So-and-So\u2019s chanting voice and what they\u2019re going to eat\nonce the service is over. They\u2019re tired because they\u2019ve been in Church for nine\nhours. Mary, Joseph and Nicodemus are tired because they\u2019ve just spent nine\nhours watching their Friend asphyxiate and bleed to death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And\nso, the two processions make their way slowly to a new tomb in a garden; one\ndecked in white and gold, the other wet with tears and blood. You seem to be in\ntwo places at once. On the one hand, you\u2019re walking around your local Coptic\nChurch holding a candle, singing \u201cLord have mercy\u201d in a tune which seems deeply\nsad and deeply joyful at the same time. On the other hand, in some mysterious\nway, you are also walking towards a garden in Jerusalem to put a blood-soaked\ncorpse into a new tomb. Some would say you\u2019re not really in the same place as\nJoseph and Mary and the bloody bundle; you are in a Coptic Church on Good\nFriday. You might imagine that you\u2019re following a group of first-century Jews\nto a new tomb outside Jerusalem, but imagining doesn\u2019t make it true. That\u2019s\nwhat some people would say. Perhaps they\u2019re right. But those people have\nprobably never been to a Coptic Church on Good Friday, and so we might wonder\nhow they can be so sure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As\nyou walk around the Church in procession, you notice some of the tired faces\naround you. A few places ahead of you in the procession is the man who taught\nyou to be a Sunday School teacher. Like Joseph and Nicodemus, he\u2019s the\nreligious type. He\u2019s attended every Holy Week service so far, morning and\nnight, and he knows more about the Church and its history than anyone you\u2019ve\never met. He loves this kind of service. His eyes are always closed during the\nlong hymns, not because he\u2019s sleeping but because he\u2019s contemplating the deep\nnuances of the ancient hymns. He\u2019s also one of the kindest and most\nself-sacrificing people you\u2019ve ever known. You can only see his back from where\nyou are, but you\u2019re sure that his eyes are closed now too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The\nprocession takes you up the back of the church, where a woman called Selena is\nleaning against a pillar. Selena still comes to Church for the big occasions,\nbut she\u2019s not really the religious type. She has a complicated history, which\nshe doesn\u2019t like to talk about. A combination of things she\u2019s done and things\nthat have been done to her have convinced her that she isn\u2019t pious or holy\nenough to be a good, church-going Coptic girl. So Selena only comes on Good\nFriday and Easter Sunday, because the services are crowded and she can slip in\nthe back without really being noticed. She doesn\u2019t understand the long hymns,\nbut she likes the processions. In the processions, Christ comes to her at the\nback of the Church, meaning she doesn\u2019t need to wade through an ocean of harsh\neyes and perfect people to get to Him. The priests and deacons carry Him around\nthe whole Church, and she can even reach out and touch Him, like the bleeding\nwoman in the Gospels. You meet her gaze as you pass her, but she looks away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Over\nthere in the corner is the kid you kicked out of your Sunday School class last\nweek. You probably shouldn\u2019t have lost your temper, but in your defence, he was\nbeing an arrogant little punk. He hit another kid hard across the back of the\nhead, and when you yelled at him, he acted like he couldn\u2019t even hear you. But\nyou remember now that he\u2019s Selena\u2019s younger brother, and you don\u2019t really know\nwhat his family is like. The one time you visited his house you noticed that\nhis mother was limping. The father was in the house but he didn\u2019t come out to\nsay hello. In the car on the way back, your mentor said, \u201cPray for them.\nEspecially for the father.\u201d You didn\u2019t ask for details. You hadn\u2019t been\nthinking of that when you kicked him out. You should probably talk to him\nlater.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As\nthe procession takes you through the church pews, you see the faces of your\nfriends, your teachers, your relatives, even one of your old crushes. Mostly\nyou don\u2019t acknowledge them; sometimes, you exchange a quick smile or nod. You\nhave seen these faces nearly every week for years; at liturgies and fundraisers\nand functions, at fantastically failed church plays, at homeless drives and\nhospital visits, soccer competitions and youth camps. But it strikes you all of\nsudden, how strange it is to be here with all these people. I mean, in one\nsense, it\u2019s no surprise that the usual people would turn up to Church on Good\nFriday, as they have done for years. But in another sense, it all seems like a\nstrange coincidence that these people, with whom you\u2019ve spent so much time\ndoing such boring, normal things, should be present with you at something so\nimportant. This is no parish camp or trivia night; you\u2019ve all come here to bury\nGod. That bloody bundle of linen behind you contains the Firstborn over All\nCreation, the Word of God, the Father\u2019s Wisdom and Power. Now that He is dead,\nthe whole Kingdom of Death is being overthrown; angels are pouring down into\nHades to join the coup. You\u2019d expect burying God and the overthrow of Hades to\nbe a unique and monumental occasion; something that removes the mundane\nexistence you carry out day by day. And yet, there is your old mentor, your\npunk Sunday School kid, your old crush, your friends, the woman who leads the\nSunday School service, the man who runs the bookshop, the lady who makes\nsandwiches on Sunday mornings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You\nreach the end. Joseph and Nicodemus lay down their load and let the women pour\na last libation of myrrh and spices on Him. Your parish priest is with them, sprinkling\nrose petals as red as the blood seeping through the linen. You remember that\nthose hands, sprinkling rose petals, are the hands with which he played\nvolleyball at your last camp. Now, he is using them to anoint the body of God\nfor its burial. You look around at the tired, familiar faces, watching Abouna\nwrapping the tiny icon in white cloth. No-one is joking now. They are either\nsinging, \u201cHoly God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal\u201d or saying nothing. And again,\nyou are surprised that you should all be together here, at this place where the\nwhole world turned upside down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When\nall is done, Joseph and Nicodemus seal up the tomb, locking their Teacher in\nHades to do battle with its dark prince. Abouna kisses the door of the tomb and\nbegins to read Psalms while the ancient mourners go home to weep and ponder the\nspectacular disaster that had become of all their hopes and dreams. Selena\nslips quietly out the back. Your old Sunday School mentor stands in the\nsanctuary, eyes closed and arms folded. When the chanting stops, your class\npunk is unusually quiet in his corner seat; he is praying that God will teach\nhis parents how to love each other. You realise that you\u2019re glad they were all\nhere with you, to see God die and come to rest in the earth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s\nonly as you leave that you realise who had been walking next to you in the\nprocession. He never said a word, but He had directed your attention as you\nwalked; He had pointed wordlessly to Selena, to your old mentor, to your Sunday\nSchool child. And He had looked back at you from inside each of them; from the\npeace that hung around your old mentor, from Selena\u2019s downcast eyes, especially\nfrom your little punk Sunday School kid. When you reached the end of the\nprocession, you watched Him wrapped in linen and sealed behind the black\ncurtains of the sanctuary. But even then, somehow, He hadn\u2019t left your side. He\nwas walking beside you while He was borne behind you in burial clothes; just as\nHe was still in the bosom of His Father, even when He went to the depths of\nHades. You realise now that it is no coincidence that you were all here\ntogether. You have things to do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And\nHe\u2019s not dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBear one another\u2019s\nburdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.\u201d (Gal 3:2)<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Original blog post found at- https:\/\/becomingfullyalive.com\/two-processions\/<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Two Processions Guest post by Becoming fully alive blog site Well, He\u2019s dead. In the end, they took Him and nailed him to a cross, watched Him suffocate under the weight of His own body, and then stabbed Him to make sure He was dead. Then everything seemed to go mad; the Veil of the … Continue reading “Two Processions”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":6537,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[363],"class_list":["post-6536","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorised","tag-procession"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6536","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6536"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6536\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6538,"href":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6536\/revisions\/6538"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/6537"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6536"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6536"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stmark.com.au\/Blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6536"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}