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How Easter weekend correlates with my own churchly death…


Over the past year and a half, I’ve been to church perhaps five times. Each visit was filled with almost instant disappointment, for I have some very strong opinions regarding church as we presently shape it today here in the West.

However, as we approach the climax of Holy Week, and with Good Friday already underway, I feel it to be no better a moment than this to express my growing desire to once again engage in communion with my brothers and sisters. While I have no clue what this will look like presently, I can confidently tell you that I’m excited to finally feel some of the hard exterior of my heart being chipped away at, and am once again experiencing a peace in my walk with Christ that I have not felt for some time. 

Joshua Longbrake, one of my favorite writers/artists/photographers/bloggers, did a project for his Masters thesis based on the Paschal Triduum and the corresponding similar rhythms we find in our lives that I’ve found poignently applicable to my current state. 

He sums this rhythm up in a series called Friday, Saturday, Sunday, which follows the idea of death (Friday), the subsequent silence and mourning associated with it (Saturday), and the eventual resurrection to come (Sunday). It’s honestly a fascinating lens to look at life through, and which the nuances of I’ll never fully grasp.

Based off my minuscule understanding of the concept, I would say I’m currently living this narrative out, in regards to my association with the Church. My Friday came about a year and a half ago when I chose to forsake the (physical) church body after moving to Arizona, and Saturday has since continued during this time in the desert (both literally and metaphorically). As I currently understand it, I’m very close to experiencing my Sunday, for I’m growing more and more restless with being isolated from my (any) community. I deem it no coincidence that the culmination of this understanding would take place during the Easter season for me, as the parallels are strong and crushingly apparent. 

All of this to say: I fully believe this weekend is ideal for observing our lives and the narratives within them, pointing us toward our pain (Friday), allowing us to grieve (Saturday), and encouraging us that we shall rise again (Sunday). 

We each experience different kinds of pain and react to those pains in different ways. However, the narrative of the Paschal Triduum is applicable to every pain, and that is a thing worth praising God for. 

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