His Death and mine

A few weeks ago I watched my mother die. This is how it should be.

The first Good Friday it was different. A mother watched her son die.

Today we all watch and wait. We watch Him die and we await our own death.

Yesterday the Iranians released into the arms of their loved ones fifteen British service persons and said it was a gesture to mark the death of Jesus. At the same time four British service persons were blown up by a roadside device manufactured by Iran in Basra, Iraq. In my book that puts the Iranians not with Jesus but with Judas and Pilate and the soldiers of Calvary. They are part of the axis of evil not saviours of the world. "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do".

The day and hour and nature of my own death are hidden from me by the kindness of a merciful God. That is fact. I cannot change it. However I can prepare for even its unexpected and early arrival by my trust in the example and power of His death for me - and for all mankind. A careful observance of Good Friday is part of that process.

Litany and Ante Communion according to the Book of Common Prayer. (8.10 a.m.)

The Three Hours preaching of the Cross. (12 noon)

Good Friday Liturgy. (3.00 p.m.)

After this I will break my fast with a cup of tea and a hot cross bun before a quiet evening and an early night.

A preacher hero of my youth called it "The pillow of the Cross" - a place of rest and letting go. That sounds like a positive approach to death whenever or however it comes.

I hope to pray - "It is accomplished" "Into thy hands I commend my spirit" as Jesus did.