The preachers have been working all week, at least, trying to put the crowning cap on that sermon, one of seven, that will distinguish itself from the platform collective.
Father, forgive them for they know not what they do. Luke 23:34
Today you will be with me in paradise. Luke 23:43
Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother. John 19:26-27
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Matthew 27:46
I thirst. John 19:28
It is finished. John 19:30
Father, into your hands I commend my spirit. Luke 23:46
On any God’s Friday
It’s once more and again the faithful gather to spend much of day together with the best of the raconteurs putting feet to the words Jesus uttered while nailed to a cross on Calvary’s hill.
From noon to 3 p.m. To cover the time before they took his body down so as not to shame the face of the impending Sabbath.
The time he bore the sins of us all, literally, for all eternity.
The time he wore the stripes for us all.
The time he secured for us all a lasting and penetrating redemption.
The period of time he was punished capitally so that we would be salt and light and walk in his life.
On any God’s Friday.
The cooking and serving staff has already been commissioned. All the while the fish is frying. The potato salad is being made. The greens were cooked the day before. The diets wil be abandoned, but not the corn bread.
All the while.
And as soon as it is finished, the faithful will gather for a seafood communion to mark another year of liberty at The Lord’s Table.
On any God’s Friday.
Dorothy Scott Boulware 