Good Friday

It is Good Friday. It is the day that we remember the Crucifixion. I have always, even as a child, taken this day very seriously. I was raised Lutheran, and our church didn't use any sort of Liturgy for this day. They usually offered silent communion. It was probably my favorite service of the year. It was a solemn, silent, personal passive experience. It was a way for me to try to understand what happened so long ago.
When we joined the Episcopal church several years ago, I was able to worship this day in an entirely different manner. I wept as we walked the stations of the cross. I watched with awe as our Priest reverenced the cross during that first service. At that moment, I vowed to remain true to my Christian heritage. The next year, I would reverence a cross at the convent. This was an act. I was finding a way to participate in church, not just watch.
This Good Friday is different for me. I am not a participant in any corporate worships services. Well, at least I am a passive participant. Maybe that isn't it either. I've never been a particularly passive person. In fact, I think there in lies my troubles at my current church.
I am going to the Cathedral for the Good Friday Liturgy today. It will go back to the solemn, silent, personal way of trying to understand. Although, this time, it will be a little bit different. I will sit and try to understand what happened so long ago in a context of what is happening today. I understand, now, that there is nothing passive about worship. We all participate. It is with that awareness that I approach this weekend's services.
I am trying to embrace this year's Good Friday and Easter's celebrations. I am worshipping among strangers. I am worshipping without a strong sense of connection to my home church and the brothers and sisters who are there. I am beginning the process of shedding the layers of frustration, anger and shame. I seem to be working my way back to the cross.