Skip to main content

Free Church Liturgy: A Good Friday Confession Service

 Last year, we had to completely scrap our plans for our Good Friday Service at Turner Christian Church and develop something that could be done entirely online. The result of that pivot was a Good Friday Service that focuses on personal confession by observing the role of human sin in each stage of the Crucifixion story.  I was actually surprised at how east it was for me to identify all of the Seven Deadly Sins at play in the story. I have embedded the video of our Good Friday Service for you to watch, and pasted the text below. Feel free to adapt and use this liturgy. Hope it's helpful!



Good Friday Confession Service

Good evening, and welcome to Turner Christian Church’s online Good Friday Service. We are gathered today, across space and time, to meditate on the journey of Jesus Christ from Gethsemane up to the cross, and down to the tomb. In this story we see Jesus Christ confront the power of sin and destruction in the world—our sin, and our destructive acts. In order to understand the cross, we must understand the role our own sin has played in the story. But Good Friday is not a story of guilt. In order to fully understand the crucifixion, we must also see how Jesus takes ours sins with him to the cross, leaving us unburdened and forgiven. Good Friday is the story of how our guilt is washed away.

This service consists of a series of scripture readings and reflections, accompanied by the excellent piano playing of Debbie Lloyd. As you watch and listen, you will be given a chance to respond to the story by prayerfully and symbolically casting your burden on Jesus. In order to fully participate in this service, you will need some simple supplies. First, you will need seven weighted objects for each participant. I recommend using seven stones, but if you don’t have access to stones you can use anything that has some heft to it—silverware, keys, coins, anything you can drop without breaking.

Second, you will need some kind of container to drop your weights into. Try to find something that will make noise when you drop your weights. I recommend a metal bucket, but you can use anything that will be able to hold all the weights for your entire group.

Finally, choose a place where you can safely dump out your weights—the yard, the sink, the floor—just be ready to dump out all your weights without damaging anything.

Feel free to pause now, and collect those items. When you are ready, press play, and we will begin.

Call to Worship:

In the early centuries of church history, a tradition developed that identified seven sinful patterns as the source of most sinful deeds. We know these vices as the Seven Deadly Sins—greed, wrath, acedia (or Sloth), Envy, Gluttony, Vainglory, and Lust. These vices form patterns in our lives that lead us deeper into sinful behavior. The seven weights you have chosen for yourself represent these sins—burdens that you carry that weigh you down, that fracture your relationships with God and other people. As we read the story of the crucifixion, we will see that each of these seven sins played a role in the death of Jesus. In our reflections we will have chance to confess our sins and unburden ourselves of these weights, one by one. We do this because Jesus came to bear the weight of our sin, and as he journeyed to the cross he drew the sin of all people onto himself.

We will begin with a call to worship from Psalm 51.

Reading: Psalm 51:15-17

15 Open my lips, Lord,
    and my mouth will declare your praise.
16 You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it;
    you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.
17 My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;
    a broken and contrite heart
    you, God, will not despise.

Prayer

Part 1: The Acedia of Jesus’s Disciples, from Matthew 26

Reading: Matthew 26:30-46, 55-56

30 When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.

31 Then Jesus told them, “This very night you will all fall away on account of me, for it is written:

“‘I will strike the shepherd, 
    and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.’

32 But after I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee.”

33 Peter replied, “Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will.”

34 “Truly I tell you,” Jesus answered, “this very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.”

35 But Peter declared, “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.” And all the other disciples said the same.
36 Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” 37 He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. 38 Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”

39 Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

40 Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Couldn’t you men keep watch with me for one hour?” he asked Peter. 41 “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

42 He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.”

43 When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. 44 So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.

45 Then he returned to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour has come, and the Son of Man is delivered into the hands of sinners. 46 Rise! Let us go! Here comes my betrayer!”…

55 In that hour Jesus said to the crowd, “Am I leading a rebellion, that you have come out with swords and clubs to capture me? Every day I sat in the temple courts teaching, and you did not arrest me. 56 But this has all taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled.” Then all the disciples deserted him and fled.

Reflection

Acedia, also known as sloth, is a resistance to the discipline required to obey God. As fallen people, it is not in our nature to do God’s will. Every step we take toward God is like going uphill, pushing against the weight of our sinful nature. Acedia tempts us to give up the work, to fall back into doubt, despair, apathy or cynicism. On the night he was arrested, Jesus felt the full weight of his disciple’s acedia. After three years of leading and teaching his closest followers, Jesus asked them to pray with him for one hour. Instead they fell asleep, unable—or rather, unwilling—to put in the effort to keep vigil with their Rabbi. And when he was arrested, Jesus found himself abandoned by all his closest followers and supporters—who only hours before had pledged to follow him to the death. Instead, when faced with genuine danger and risk—when following Jesus meant shackles and trials and potentially death, they ran for their lives.

Acedia is alive and well today; in fact, we could call it America’s fastest-growing religion. So many of us have given up on fulfilling the call of Jesus Christ—the call to be holy, selfless, generous, pure, humble, kind, obedient—because it was too hard, required too much effort, too much sacrifice. We have promised to follow Jesus every step of the way, and then abandoned him when it mattered most. We have much to confess. But the example of the disciples also gives us hope. All 11 of the remaining disciples ran away, but they remained in Jerusalem, even after the crucifixion, and were restored by the risen Christ. History tells that every one of them fulfilled their promise to Jesus to follow him to the death—in Jerusalem, Rome, Ethiopia, Armenia, and many other places—and through their dedication to Christ the gospel was carried to the ends of the earth. Therefore let us confess our acedia, and ask God to restore us to faithfulness, discipline, and mission. Then take your first weight and drop it in the bucket.

Part 2: The Greed of Judas Iscariot—from Matthew 26 & 27

Reading: Matthew 26:14-16, 47-50 [27:3-5]

14 Then one of the Twelve—the one called Judas Iscariot—went to the chief priests 15 and asked, “What are you willing to give me if I deliver him over to you?” So they counted out for him thirty pieces of silver. 16 From then on Judas watched for an opportunity to hand him over….

47 While [Jesus] was still speaking, Judas, one of the Twelve, arrived. With him was a large crowd armed with swords and clubs, sent from the chief priests and the elders of the people. 48 Now the betrayer had arranged a signal with them: “The one I kiss is the man; arrest him.” 49 Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and kissed him.

50 Jesus replied, “Do what you came for, friend.”

Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him.

[When Judas, who had betrayed him, saw that Jesus was condemned, he was seized with remorse and returned the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and the elders. “I have sinned,” he said, “for I have betrayed innocent blood.”

“What is that to us?” they replied. “That’s your responsibility.”

So Judas threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged himself.]

Reflection

Judas is the first, and most famous, to fail Jesus. In Judas we see the sin of greed. John tells us that Judas had a habit of stealing from Jesus and his disciples, and when he had a chance he betrayed Jesus for the paltry amount of 30 silver coins—about $3000. Greed is the inordinate desire for possessions and wealth, an obsession with owning and controlling things which ultimately leads to being owned and controlled by our things. Scripture closely connects greed with idolatry, because it causes us to worship lifeless objects instead of our life-giving creator. Judas betrayed Jesus for $3000, and we revile him for it. But let me ask you this: what is your price? How much does it cost to induce you to betray Jesus? The truth is that we have all fallen prey to the sin of greed, and often we betray Jesus for far less. We lie, steal and cheat for such small amounts, we sell our souls so cheaply. We worship phones and consoles and other possessions that cost much less than $3,000—and then we sit in judgment on Judas. The truth is, we are, each one of us, a Judas. In our own way we have each sold the King of Glory for pocket change. But we do not have to suffer Judas’s fate. Judas’s ultimate failure was not his betrayal of Jesus but his decision to take his own life, rather than to seek forgiveness and redemption. So Take a moment to confess our greed before God, and to ask for his forgiveness and grace. Then take your second weight, and drop it in the bucket.

Part 3: The Wrath of Simon Peter from Matthew 26

Reading: Matthew 26:50-54

Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him.51 With that, one of Jesus’ companions reached for his sword, drew it out and struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear.

52 “Put your sword back in its place,” Jesus said to him, “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. 53 Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? 54 But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?”

Reflection

Anger in its proper place is a gift from God. When we are angered by injustice and ungodliness—by the oppression of the innocent and rebellion against God—we reflect God’s own passion for justice, righteousness, and compassion. But when our anger outgrows its proper boundaries—when we our anger becomes selfish, violent, destructive, or chaotic—it becomes the sin of wrath. Peter was right to be angry—the arrest of Jesus, an innocent man, in the dead of night for a secret trial was a flagrant miscarriage of justice that deserves our anger. But when Peter drew his sword and attacked the servant of the high priest, he gave into wrath, using violence to oppose violence and injustice to fight injustice. He acted out of personal fury and not Godly anger, for Jesus himself had made no move to defend himself.

But Peter is not alone. We have all fallen into the temptation of wrath. Each one of us has lashed out in anger, not because of genuine injustice, but because of personal inconvenience. We have all gotten more angry than the situation deserves, expressed our anger in destructive ways, and held onto our anger far longer than was right. Most tragically, we, like Peter, have lashed out angrily in defense of Jesus himself—as if he needed our defending—and through our wrath we have divided the body of Christ, we have alienated the lost from the Church, we have served the Devil rather than our savior. Like Peter we must learn to sheath our swords, and we must look to Jesus to heal the destruction we have caused. Let us confess our wrath, and ask God to heal our broken families, churches, communities and nations. Then take your third weight, and drop it in the bucket.

Prayer

Part 4: The Envy of the Sanhedrin from Matthew 26 & 27

Reading: Matthew 26:57-68; 27:1-2, 18

57 Those who had arrested Jesus took him to Caiaphas the high priest, where the teachers of the law and the elders had assembled. 58 But Peter followed him at a distance, right up to the courtyard of the high priest. He entered and sat down with the guards to see the outcome.

59 The chief priests and the whole Sanhedrin were looking for false evidence against Jesus so that they could put him to death. 60 But they did not find any, though many false witnesses came forward.

Finally two came forward 61 and declared, “This fellow said, ‘I am able to destroy the temple of God and rebuild it in three days.’”

62 Then the high priest stood up and said to Jesus, “Are you not going to answer? What is this testimony that these men are bringing against you?” 63 But Jesus remained silent.

The high priest said to him, “I charge you under oath by the living God: Tell us if you are the Messiah, the Son of God.”

64 “You have said so,” Jesus replied. “But I say to all of you: From now on you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven.”

65 Then the high priest tore his clothes and said, “He has spoken blasphemy! Why do we need any more witnesses? Look, now you have heard the blasphemy. 66 What do you think?”

“He is worthy of death,” they answered.

67 Then they spit in his face and struck him with their fists. Others slapped him 68 and said, “Prophesy to us, Messiah. Who hit you?”…

Early in the morning, all the chief priests and the elders of the people made their plans how to have Jesus executed. So they bound him, led him away and handed him over to Pilate the governor….

18 [Pilate] knew it was out of [envy (ESV)] that they had handed Jesus over to him.

Reflection

It is hard to underestimate the destructive power of envy. The very first brother became the first murderer out of envy. Envy had divided kingdoms, families, friendships, marriages—the closer the relationship, the greater the destructive power of envy. So it is no surprise that we should find envy in play at the trial of Jesus. Matthew tells us that it was envy that motivated the Sanhedrin to conspire against Jesus. The tragedy of this moment cannot be understated. These men had dedicated their lives to learning God’s word, leading his people, and waiting for his redemption. They had prayed, probably daily, that the messiah would come. They had dreamed of the return of their god to his temple. And when he finally came and stood before him, the Jewish leaders missed him completely because of their envy. They envied Jesus his popularity, his power, his confidence. They hated him because he came from Galilee; he wasn’t “one of us.” They looked on the face of the salvation for which their people had prayed for over 400 years, and they spat in it. In their envy it was not enough simply to reject Jesus; they had to destroy him, to tear him down, to beat him. And so they crucified the Lord of Glory.

How often do we miss Jesus because of envy? How often do we look at some good work Jesus is doing in the world around us, and we spit on it because it “wasn’t my idea”? How often do we do violence to the Body of Christ because we envy the work that God is doing through our brothers and sisters instead of ourselves? How often do we car more about our own reputation—about winning—than about the growth of the Kingdom? Let us confess our envy to God, and ask for hearts that seek his glory, that love our neighbors as ourselves, that rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. Then take your fourth weight, and drop it in the bucket.

Part 5: The Gluttony of Herod Antipas from Luke 23

Reading: Luke 23:1-11

Then the whole assembly rose and led him off to Pilate. And they began to accuse him, saying, “We have found this man subverting our nation. He opposes payment of taxes to Caesar and claims to be Messiah, a king.”

So Pilate asked Jesus, “Are you the king of the Jews?”

“You have said so,” Jesus replied.

Then Pilate announced to the chief priests and the crowd, “I find no basis for a charge against this man.”

But they insisted, “He stirs up the people all over Judea by his teaching. He started in Galilee and has come all the way here.”

On hearing this, Pilate asked if the man was a Galilean. When he learned that Jesus was under Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent him to Herod, who was also in Jerusalem at that time.

When Herod saw Jesus, he was greatly pleased, because for a long time he had been wanting to see him. From what he had heard about him, he hoped to see him perform a sign of some sort. He plied him with many questions, but Jesus gave him no answer. 10 The chief priests and the teachers of the law were standing there, vehemently accusing him. 11 Then Herod and his soldiers ridiculed and mocked him. Dressing him in an elegant robe, they sent him back to Pilate.

Reflection

As a deadly sin, we do not take gluttony very seriously. It conjures images of overweight men stuffing their faces and licking their fingers—not exactly the deadliest of images, unless you count heart disease. As a wealthy, indulgent king, it is entirely possible that King Herod Antipas resembled this image. But gluttony wears many faces, and it leads to death and destruction  in many unexpected ways. At its root, gluttony is an obsession with consumption—a dependence on objects to control our moods. A glutton is controlled by their appetite; they want what they want, and they cannot say no to their desires, however large or small they may be. A glutton may be obsessed with eating the biggest, or smallest, amount of food possible. Or they may be obsessed with getting the highest quality possible, or getting it as quickly as possible. Whatever their desire, the glutton is completely mastered by it.

When Jesus appeared before Herod Antipater, Tetrarch of Galilee, it was the most important moment of Herod’s life. Little did he know that this one trial would keep his name on people’s lips for millennia to come, because the man who stood before him was the Messiah, the incarnation, the true King of the Jews. And in this most important moment in history, Herod asks the incarnate Word of God, through whom all things were made, to perform a magic trick. Why? Because Herod had an appetite. He wanted to see something impressive, something to satisfy his desire for novelty and entertainment. When given an audience with the King of Kings, he asked for parlor tricks. And when Jesus refused to perform, Herod salvaged what little entertainment he could from Jesus by mocking and ridiculing him—then sent him back to Pilate. Herod was so disappointed in Jesus, so disinterested in him, that he couldn’t even be bothered to make a ruling in the case.

 Too often we too treat Jesus as a magician, who exists to satisfy our appetites. Scripture encourages us to bring our concerns and desires before God, no matter how trivial. It is not gluttonous to bring our desires to God; it is gluttonous to judge God by whether or not he satisfies them. We behave like Herod when we ask God to satisfy our desires, and then lose interest when he does not deliver. How often do we abandon our savior because he is not giving us what we want, when we want it? How often do we follow other gods because they promise to satisfy our desires NOW, instead of in the fullness of time? We turn to money for stability; politics for security; romance for fulfillment; alcohol for comfort; the crowd for truth. Like Herod we send Jesus away, not because we are angry or doubtful, but because we are bored and uninterested in a savior who does not do parlor tricks. Let us confess now our gluttony, and ask God to replace our appetites for novelties with a deep desire for his word and his will. Then place your fifth weight in the bucket.

Part 6: The Vainglory of Pontius Pilate from Mark 15

Reading: Mark 15:6-15

Now it was the custom at the festival to release a prisoner whom the people requested. A man called Barabbas was in prison with the insurrectionists who had committed murder in the uprising. The crowd came up and asked Pilate to do for them what he usually did.

“Do you want me to release to you the king of the Jews?” asked Pilate, 10 knowing it was out of self-interest that the chief priests had handed Jesus over to him. 11 But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have Pilate release Barabbas instead.

12 “What shall I do, then, with the one you call the king of the Jews?” Pilate asked them.

13 “Crucify him!” they shouted.

14 “Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate.

But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!”

15 Wanting to satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas to them. He had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.

Reflection

Jesus was an innocent man. Not just innocent of the Sanhedrin’s trumped-up charges—Jesus was innocent of everything and anything: all crimes and sins, all offenses and misunderstandings. Jesus was the only truly-innocent person ever to exist, and yet he was executed by the Roman Empire. Why? Because Pontius Pilate, governor of Judea, official representative of Roman Emperor Tiberius Caesar Augustus, wanted to satisfy the crowds. In the most important moment in history—the most important trial ever conducted—the verdict was controlled by the audience instead of the judge.

Vainglory is the inordinate desire for attention. The vainglorious are obsessed with being liked—or, failing at that, at least being talked about. They seek image over substance, reputation over character, appearances over virtues. Pilate’s job was to ensure justice for the accused—a simple matter when the accused is entirely innocent. Pilate knew Jesus was innocent; but he cared more about being on the crowd’s good side. And so he handed an innocent man, the King of the World, the creator of the universe—his own personal creator—over to be tortured and killed.

Each one of us faces the same dilemma as Pilate. In big ways and small ways, in front of large audiences and small groups, we are forced to choose between faithfulness to God and the cheers of the crowd. Doing right is often unpopular; being loyal to Jesus often means saying no to others. In those times we face Pilate’s choice and, if we are honest, we must admit that we have done the same thing as Pilate. We have been unfaithful to the only one who has been perfectly faithful to us. We have chosen the fickle, temporary praise of “the crowd” over the approval of our own creator, king, and father. We have chased empty praise and vain glory. Let us confess our vainglory before God, and ask for the strength to choose his approval over the crowd. Then place your sixth weight in the bucket.

Prayer

Part 7: The Lust of the Jerusalem Crowd from Luke 23

Reading: Luke 23:33-43

33 When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified him there, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. 34 Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.

35 The people stood watching, and the rulers even sneered at him. They said, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is God’s Messiah, the Chosen One.”

36 The soldiers also came up and mocked him. They offered him wine vinegar 37 and said, “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.”

38 There was a written notice above him, which read: this is the king of the jews.

39 One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!”

40 But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? 41 We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.”

42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

43 Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Reflection

We typically associate Lust with sex, but in Christian tradition the sin of lust refers to a broader vice. The root of lust is an attitude that views other people as objects that can be used for one’s own pleasure. The most obvious way we use other people for pleasure is through sexual sin, but that is by no means the only way. When we take pleasure in controlling or manipulating others, when we thoughtlessly use others for our own ends and then cast them aside, we deny their God-given dignity and reduce them to a thing. When we are at our most sinful, we turn everything completely on its head, and we rejoice in the suffering of other human beings. We take pleasure in their pain.

In Jesus’s last moments he felt the full force of the human capacity to objectify other people. As he was in the throes of torturous death, the crowd mocked and laughed. As the savior of the world died for the sins of the people, those very people spit on him and reviled him, they heaped insults on him. As God himself was dying on the cross, they did not even treat him like a human being—they treated him like garbage.

In treating him this way, the crowds at the cross acted as our representatives. We have all objectified Christ in our own way. We have taken his name in vain, we have joined others in mocking him, we have done terrible things in his name, we have used his forgiveness as license to sin. We have accepted his grace thoughtlessly and casually, we have given him the lowest priority in our schedules and pocketbooks. When he deserved to receive our totally devotion, we fit him into our schedules like an appointment with a hairdresser. We all bear the guilt of objectifying our savior. And yet, in the midst of that guilt and shame, we also hear the voice of our savior say, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” In the very moment when he had the perfect reason for anger, judgment, and condemnation, Jesus responded to their mockery with forgiveness. Let us confess our lust before God, confident that Jesus prays for our forgiveness as well. Then place your last weight in the bucket.

Part 8: The Death of Jesus Christ from Luke 23

Reading: Luke 23:34, 44-49

44 It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, 45 for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. 46 Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last.

47 The centurion, seeing what had happened, praised God and said, “Surely this was a righteous man.” 48 When all the people who had gathered to witness this sight saw what took place, they beat their breasts and went away. 49 But all those who knew him, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.

Reflection

As he hung on the cross, Jesus bore the full weight of the sins of the world. Not a single one of them was his: he carried our sins. Our greed, our wrath, our acedia, our envy, our gluttony, our vainglory, our lust. But he did not carry them as a helpless victim. He carried them as a savior. He carried them because he could take it. He could hold all of our sins as he died on the cross, so that our guilt and shame could die with him. Over 600 years before his death, the prophet Isaiah said this about Jesus:

Surely he took up our pain
    and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
    stricken by him, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions,
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
    and by his wounds we are healed.
We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
    each of us has turned to our own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all.

 

The day of Jesus’ death is called Good Friday because it is a good day—it is the day when the burden of our sin and shame is lifted, and we are able to breath freely again—because Jesus took the weight, and breathed his last. As we pray, take a moment to reflect on the gift you have been given: the gift of forgiveness, a second chance, of new divine life. Then say a prayer of gratitude to Jesus for bearing your sin and taking it with him to the grave. When you are done, take the bucket of weights and pour it out—to remind you that your sins are done away with through the death of Jesus.

 



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Massacre of the Innocents [By W.H. Auden]

[From For the Time Being,  by W.H. Auden] HEROD One needn’t be much of a psychologist to realize that if this rumor is not stamped out now, in a few years it is capable of diseasing the whole Empire, and one doesn’t have to be a prophet to predict the consequences if it should. Reason will be replaced by Revelation. Instead of Rational Law, objective truths perceptible to any who will undergo the necessary intellectual discipline, and the same for all, Knowledge will degenerate into a riot of subjective visions—feelings in the solar plexus induced by undernourishment, angelic images generated by fevers or drugs, dream warnings inspired by the sound of falling water. Whole cosmologies will be created out of some forgotten personal resentment, complete epics written in private languages, the daubs of school children ranked above the great masterpieces. Idealism will be replaced by Materialism. Priapus will only have to move to a good address and call himself Eros

Works of Love XVIII: “Love for the Dead”

[From Part II, Chapter IX: “ The Work of Love in Remembering One Dead ”] “Weep less bitterly for the dead, for he is at rest.” Sirach 22:11 (NRSV) [1] With chapter 9 of part 2, Works of Love is beginning to come to a close. With entry 17, this blog series is also nearing its end. As Kierkegaard has given us a detailed view of what Christian love is supposed to look like, now he gives us a way to test the purity of our own love: look at the way you love those who have died. [2] We are to love everyone, and loving means remembering, and so we are to love the dead. But loving those who have died is a special circumstance, and it shows us what kind of love we are showing. If we reflect on the way we love the dead, we can see whether we are showing truly Christian love. Kierkegaard identifies three ways that love for the dead is unique. First, he says that showing love for the dead is “a work of the most unselfish love.” He writes, “If one wants to make sure that love is

Choruses from the Rock (VI), By T.S. Eliot

[I know that I promised blog entries that I haven't delivered yet. I've got plenty of ideas in my head, it's just a matter of finding the time and the motivation at the same time. Anyway, I expect that I'll be ready to write relatively soon, but until then I thought I would tide you over with a section from T.S. Eliot's excellent poem, Choruses from "The Rock". Enjoy!] It is hard for those who have never known persecution, And who have never known a Christian, To believe these tales of Christian persecution. It is hard for those who live near a Bank To doubt the security of their money. It is hard for those who live near a Police Station To believe in the triumph of violence. Do you think that the Faith has conquered the World And that lions no longer need keepers? Do you need to be told that whatever has been, can still be? Do you need to be told that even such modest attainments As you boast of in the way of polite society Will hardly surv