“It’s Friday, but Sundays coming…”
Last week and this week, my church in York has been doing a visual exhibition around the streets of York entitled “Via Luminosa”. It presents the Easter story in a set of 15 artworks, mostly with the help of video projectors. But on Good Friday, the day myself and 3 friends followed the walk, the resurrection video loop was replaced with another one which simply displayed:
“Its Friday… But Sundays coming… Watch-this-space…”
I have to say, and not for any theological reason, or through any failing of Rev Sue Wallace when making up the videos themselves. Something about seeing that phrase on Good Friday, after quite a stressful and subsequently de-motivated 2 weeks was immensely inspiring.
Obviously its a reference to the fact that Jesus had died, as we remember on Good Friday, and that the time between then and Sunday is a time to remember the bleakest 48 hours of the original disciples lives. But its also a time for us to consider that experience of wondering where on Earth God is in a situation.
I think I’ve found myself wondering that more than once over the last couple of weeks. What happened in London has been well documented, but on a personal level it was quite draining, probably more so for myself than some others just because of how much I stake on the sorts of inspiring events Climate Camp was until it got raided, emptied and trashed. There was a distinct sense that “Friday” had set in.
I suppose this has also been a tough couple of weeks of wondering what I might do next, but also, in having to support a close friend who came off worse than I did, I’m left to wonder how I would have coped if I’d had a job. Or maybe having less time to stop and think would have made things easier. I can’t really say either way.
What its meant is that I’ve gotten distracted from everything I was in the throws of doing, and am almost amazed I haven’t just started playing Magic the Gathering again (it has about the same role in my life as fishing did in Simon Peter’s). I’ve had plenty of time to chew the fat over some of what has happened, and now, I suppose, is the time to try and get back on with all the things I had planned.
Except without much energy and enthusiasm, I’m left trying to even remember what some of those things were. But the fact is, humanity has had bad days before, and survived. And April 1st, 1649 was definitely one of them. And in reality, I don’t even think April 1st 2009 will ever be considered such a major event anyway.
Unfortunately, the Sunday bit is unlikely to be very tangible. Various friends are out of town, and when they get back, I’m sure things will feel rather better, though many will be more busy than ever. And I think everyone else will move on a bit, which will help. And maybe the upcoming Climate Camp gathering will prove meaningful and succeed in getting things rolling again. Or something else will happen.
When Simon Peter and his friends went fishing, it was an acceptance that the show was over. And he and his friends aren’t the only people in history to have that kind of experience. But as a preacher I respect a lot happens to say more than once in a while, “mountaintops might give great views, but its in the valleys that things grow”, even though, annoyingly, the valleys don’t give too good of a view of the road ahead.
It might feel like Friday, having seen an innocent man killed, friends beaten, others emotionally destroyed, but we already know the end of the story… even if Sunday can’t come soon enough.