Good Friday

I have always wondered why it was called Good
this Friday that falls somewhere around Eostre
sometime close to Passover,  this year almost
overlapping with Vaisakhi and Buddha day,
always in Christian tradition two days before Easter.

Easter that celebration of new life, of growth,
of new life,  Easter that day that joins
with the holidays of other traditions, celebrating
enlightenment, and freedom from slavery, and the
new harvest. Those sacred holy days that call us to hope.

I have always wondered why the day two days
before, the one that in my tradition is the day
that Jesus is flogged is crucified, when for all the world he
dies, the curtain is torn,  and sorrow is at it height
why is it called GOOD?

I have read, I have studied the theology,  a holy day,
a good day,  and yet I have questioned,
today the question rests
I have felt the resurrection in my life, over
and over again, today tulips are in bud.

Today is Good Friday,
for me a day of grief, of loss, of confronting of being confronted
a father on a ventilator, he is a doctor, has Covid,
an aunt in intensive care,  no visitors allowed
an exchange student breathing constricted, waiting

There is not resurrection, no enlightenment, no new life,
no freedom from our enslavement called Covid in sight,
and yet I sit knowing this is not good, and yet the bulbs
are budding, the generosity is visible, the compassion
is growing

 today is a holy day.

gloria fern April 10 2020