Today is Good Friday. I am struck to tears and unspeakable heartache, now more than ever before. Why? Every Good Friday we are called to remember the brutal beating and crucifixion of Jesus. He walked in the of midst of those deemed lesser and unimportant. They experienced of his love and compassion for them. But, he walked a lonely road to his death. Sure, there were a few who had the courage to walk with him, but many, his disciples in particular, scattered for their own safety. Surely, they all felt powerless to stop it from happening.
Today we are reliving the horrific facts of the death of George Floyd during the trial of Derek Chauvin. To hear the testimony of the witnesses as they broke down and grieved over watching Floyd die has been excruciating for many. Most of the witnesses were strangers to him, yet they all spoke of feeling helpless and guilty that they didn’t try to help him. Even though they also knew they were powerless to do so.
Jesus was innocent of any crime, George Floyd was not. But, the fact remains that neither deserved to die in such a violent way at the hands of another.
So I sit quietly and contemplate both these men and how their deaths have impacted me. Obviously, I did not know Jesus personally, but, as a professed Christian, I am called to emulate his radical love in every aspect of my life. I mostly fail, but keep trying and longing to be more like him in the way I live my life.
And, George Floyd? I didn’t know him either, and likely never would have, nor would most of us, if not for his horrific death. Both have touched my life. In those beautiful and poignant words of John Donne, “No man is an island, entire of itself…any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind.”
“Any man/woman’s death diminishes me.” That is a fact of the God’s making, we are all interconnected – like it or not. That truth also goes beyond diminishment. It cannot end there. The death of another, be it a loved one or a stranger, should call us to stop and take inventory of our own lives. Every funeral I attend does that for me and often shines a light on my failings to be Christ-like to others. Thankfully, every day is a new day – a day to begin again.
So, here’s what I will be contemplating and praying about today, on this holy Good Friday, and hopefully be acting on it daily. It doesn’t have to be Jesus who calls us to be better, kinder, softer; to live and love more fully. It can also be the death of a stranger we have never met that wakes us from sleep-walking through life. Facing the realization that we will also die (sorry if that is news to you) – maybe sooner than later (sorry again) – should cause us to ask ourselves if our houses are in order and, more importantly, what we are leaving behind because…
Death does not care if we have left business unfinished, relationships broken, or children to be raised. It doesn’t matter if we are not ready, or sit on promises to change. It will take the weak with the strong, the humble with the proud, the saint with the jerk. Death doesn’t respect wedding plans, vacation plans, or unmet deadlines. It does not operate by a timetable we set, and is no respecter of age. It does not discriminate between the most loved or most hated. It may not wait for the most brilliant to cure cancer, bring peace to a troubled nation, or receive a Nobel Prize.
Denying that death is a part of life is like believing we still look like our high school picture. We can’t rely on death to come when we are ready. But we can rely on it to teach those of us who are willing, how to truly live. It can and should be a time of reflection: Have I lived well, loved well, forgiven — honestly – and sought forgiveness humbly?
Good or bad, I have touched the lives of family and friends, the mailman, and the grumpy receptionist at the doctor’s office. I may have amassed wealth and recognition, and may leave a fortune to my loved ones. All things they can pack away, gamble away, or throw away. But, at the end of the day...what have I left in their hearts?