Good Friday march of witness

We both went this year, taking Chris's mum with us for the first time.

I find this a slightly bizarre thing: parading the image of those mourning a dead Jesus before the people of Bicester. Of course we need to remember the suffering in our place that he went through, but it's not like rememberance day (with which this bears a VERY striking similarity) where all those soldiers are dead and gone for us. Instead it seems to me we should be happy - by His stripes I am healed - etc.

Anyway, the good side - this is something that almost all the churches of Bicester take part in and support, but it does bring you up against the odder side of things.

We started from the Roman Catholic church, where we were delivered a most peculiar message (about the status of Judas, including mention of the newly found 'gospel', Judas sainthood in the Eastern Orthodox church and the concept that he might have been acting righteously in his betrayal). It didn't seem to match scripture to me. In Acts Peter is recorded as quoting Psalm 69 v25 in relation to Judas. However if the whole section that verse comes from is taken together, it specifically says in v28 'wipe their names from the book of life and do not list them with those who do what is right. There is much in this area that could be discussed, but it's not actually that important - I just hate it when people stand at the front and say things that aren't right.

Anyway, eventually everyone managed to file out of the church, down the causeway and along the high street. We stopped in 3 places where sections of the bible were read relating to the trial and crucifixion, then on to the Methodist church at the opposite end of town for a little more hymn singing ('Servant King' sounds like a hymn - bet if it was played on guitar it would get called a 'chorus'). Then cold cross buns and escape into the sunshine.

Yesterday was like the first day of spring, with warmth and light, after being indoors all winter.

What has this post to do with easter? Not a lot really. I guess pretty much all my Christian life I've carried round an awareness that Jesus died for me. Easter season, like the eggs, always feels hollow: a show of mourning, a show of celebration, a little taste in the mouth and then it's gone. I wish the the reality of all of it would be more evident: in me as well as what we do as churches together. I just don't want the theatre.

Catholic church interior

Causeway

Stop 1

Stop 2

Stop 3

The methodist church

Waiting to get in.