One of the greatest sermons had a recurring refrain. It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming.
The message is simple: whatever happened on Good Friday, no matter how bleak it might seem, Christ’s resurrection brings to the world the most amazing hope.
Watching the third part of The Passion, seeing a dramatic account and vivid recreation, where much of the violence and pain is graphically filled in by our imaginations, one had to keep repeating that mantra. It’s the only way to help get through the horror unfolding before us.
Trying to review this episode is incredibly difficult. The emotional rollercoaster of the final half-hour overshadows any of the clever-clever, witty banter that could have been said of the first half. The Passion plays out with barely a moment for reflection.
But before Friday comes Thursday. And Thursday gives the disunderstanding of disciples even more to disundertand.
At supper, Jesus appears to hold a parlour game of riddles and intriguing actions that leave the disciples even more confused than they previously were. But Christ’s sayings would only make sense by Pentecost.
The Passover tradition includes a family meal together. So naturally, the disciples are doubly confused when Jesus tells them, ‘What’s special about Passover? I wanted us to enjoy a last meal together. You’re my family now. You’re all my family.’
Although this is for dramatic purposes, it’s still a strange thing for Jesus to say. Likewise, after the foot washing, Peter being warned about betrayal and several other riddles, Jesus tops the lot by breaking bread and sharing the wine in the first communion.
The action then transfers to the foggy, eerie and spooky Garden of Gethsemane, echoing any good horror flick. It here that we hear Christ’s prayers – meaty, manly and given earnestly.
And his anger at the disciples is equally strong. We realise that Christ is no pushover, no matter how meek and mild we wish to try and make him.
When Judas is forced to lead the Temple guards to the garden to hand over Jesus, the horror really does stand out. And you can almost feel the testosterone in the air as the sword fight is played out in big, confusing terms, just as it probably was.
The events are so believable. The confusion in the air is palpable and, as people in Jerusalem wonder where it’s all going, we already know. This shows the drama’s strength. We are completely drawn in to the action, and care as all the strands are woven closely together.
