Good Friday?

So it is Written ...

In observance of Good Friday, I am reminded of a childhood memory in which the local parish priest, Father Frank, visited our school during Holy Week. I was in Grade 3 and attended the Roman Catholic School just around the block from our home. Father Frank was well loved by all of the students in our school. He was a young Franciscan Friar who wore Adidas sneakers under his brown robe and attended school tournaments to cheer on our sports teams. He knew almost everyone by first name and when our teacher announced that he would be visiting our class during Holy Week, the announcement was met with boisterous cheering from my classmates.

Father Frank happened to make his rounds to our classroom on Holy Thursday. After the loud welcome we gave him, it took him a while to calm the class down and to invite everyone to sit around him at the reading station so he could discuss the real reason for his visit -- Easter, the most important Christian celebration. Father Frank had a serious tone when he launched into a dramatic discussion of the events leading up to Jesus' crucifixion and eventual resurrection.

Although most of us were 8 or 9 at the time and too old to admit we wanted anything from the Easter Bunny at Easter, we still equated Easter with lots of chocolate, a school play, giving up something "easy" for Lent, time off school and the obligatory visit to church with our family on Easter Sunday. We didn't fully understand why Jesus had to die to save us from our sins. We weren't even born at that time. We had all heard the word resurrect enough times to know it meant rise from the dead. When Jesus appeared to Mother Mary and Mary Magdalene, weren't they scared because he was a ghost? If Jesus died, but was still living, did that mean that heaven was inhabited by living dead people? When people came back from the dead in movies, they were usually blood-thirsty vampires, abominable zombies or evil ghosts.

When it was time for question period, I wanted to ask Father Frank all of these questions troubling my young mind, but didn't dare to speak up because my mother and teachers taught me not to question religion, that I should just believe in our faith. If I asked these questions, it meant that I wasn't a true Christian. And, I was! I was baptized, went to a Roman Catholic school, had my communion and went to church with my older sisters on Sundays. So, I decided instead to ask Father Frank why Good Friday was "good" because Jesus was crucified on that day. Shouldn't it be called Bad Friday? He laughed, stroked his beard back and forth on one side before answering and then explained that Jesus died and knew he had to because he had to save us from our sins. He then patted me on the head and said again, "He died for us. You understand?"

I vigorously nodded before I lied and said, "Yes, Father Frank!"

~ Miss Mo Rose