O Holy God,
the hosannas have died away,
the palm branches have turned brittle;

the joy of seder meal,
the awkward intimacy of washing feet,
the sharing of bread and cup with one another—
all a memory.

Now, today, there is only this—
each of us,
all of us,
sitting in the darkness,
the echo of hammer and nail in our ears
on this Friday
which we tremble to call Good.

What is good about it?

What is good about the innocent one nailed to a cross?
What is good about the darkness of war that persists today?
What is good about our devastation of the planet?
… about people living in poverty?
… about the fog of addiction, depression, disease and despair?
What is good about the crushing weight of hunger, racism, scapegoating, apathy?

No, there is nothing good and desirable in these things.

Yet you, O God, are Good.

When suffering reigns yours is the first heart to break.

When despair lurks about, we remember that you were there first,
peering into the abyss and crying out, incredibly:
“Father, forgive them.”

Your love for us is just that boundless,
and ever-present,
and Good.

Thank you.
What else can we say here, in the dimness,
in the darkness,
but thank you.
Amen.