Not A Good Day

On this day known as Good Friday
my body feels the heaviness of grief born
of oppression, injustice and violence
as never in my almost seven decades.

I then remember the grieving people
of Gaza, Haiti, Iran, Lebanon, the Congo,
South Sudan, Ukraine and Minnesota
to name only a few.

It was not a good day
for those who lived it.
It was not a good Friday.

There seems to be a stillness
as though creation is suspended
at the intersection of disbelief and dread.
Will the skies weep this day?

Certainly his students were well acquainted
with this intersection and the recognition
of their own powerlessness
to impact the situation.

It was not a good day
for those who lived it.
It was not a good Friday.

Despite the violence of Rome and the mob,
his mother, Maryam, the other women and 
the disciple, Yohannan used their power 
to accompany him until his last breath.

Looking upon them as he suffered,
he knew he was not forsaken
by those who loved him still
and stood in solidarity with him.

It was not a good day
for those who lived it.
It was not a good Friday.

Long before Europeans “racialized” skin color,
another brown man from the margins
in Roman-controlled West Asia was killed
for the desires of those in power.

Like countless others across time
Yeshua of Nazareth experienced
cruelty, suffering and killing
at the hands of others.

It was not a good day
for those who lived it.
It was not a good Friday.

Each crucifixion, each lynching, each stoning
signals to the system’s pawns the value
of remembering and accepting the lowliness
of their human existence.

On that Friday, the commemoration
of Passover was disrupted
with another gruesome reminder
to accept injustice and oppression.

It was not a good day
for those who lived it.
It was not a good Friday.