Confessions at the Cross, Good Friday

By Aaron Pazan

Confessions at the Cross, Good Friday from Fresh Squeezed Liturgy 

We know what is coming, Jesus. We wince as we glance at the scaffold, almost unable to stare at it straight on.

Your Cross is in our face, and we squirm as we remember the reason for its placement.

It is there because of us. It is there because we build walls of will over and above the will of the One who created us and cares for us.

Your Cross is there only so that we may climb our way back to Love.

Once in awhile we are bold enough to examine ourselves, shamed enough to recognize the accumulated bulk of our sins, and humble enough to comprehend that we need your help to demolish such a heap.

Hear us, Jesus. Hear us and offer us your restoration.

To start with, we admit that days go by—maybe even weeks and months—and we pay you no mind. We become absorbed in ourselves, going about accomplishing what needs to be accomplished and figuring out what needs to be figured. Unintentionally, for the most part, we squeeze you out as we seek to live our lives. Ironically, we forget that you ARE our lives. We are sorry.

Hear us, Jesus. Hear us and offer us your restoration.

Then there are the moments of grand hypocrisy—the times when we claim to be your followers, but when we strike off on our own course instead. We fail to love our neighbors with even a smidgen of the amount you demonstrate. We demand to have what we believe to be rightfully ours, not bothering to notice if justice and kindness and mercy are being applied in our wake. We think shallow thoughts and speak heartless words. We disappoint you. We are sorry.

Hear us, Jesus. Hear us and offer us your restoration.

Sometimes—and these are the sins that are most difficult to acknowledge—we intend to do harm. We lash out on purpose to cause someone pain. We laugh at someone else’s misfortunes. We humiliate. We plot. We judge. We hate. We are sorry.

Hear us, Jesus. Hear us and offer us your restoration.

Your Cross is still there, coercing us into all kinds of confessions, both enormous and miniature. We will not experience relief until we have unburdened ourselves of the unnamed offenses that weigh us down and devastate you. Stir us to identify the jagged chunk in the wall that most separates us from you. Allow us to name it, and inscribe it. Then let us use your Cross to destroy it.

Hear us, Jesus. Hear us and offer us your restoration. . . .

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