It’s Holy week. We’ve already welcomed Jesus with palm branches and hosannas. He’ll wash the disciples’ feet, commission us to love one another and share a holy meal together. He’ll face trials and torture and ultimately crucifixion. And then, on Sunday, the tomb is discovered empty and through the victory over death, resurrection life comes to us all. All in a matter of a few days.
This time of year, I’m always reminded of one of my favorite stories. I once attended a retreat where Tony Campolo spoke. Campolo, a highly acclaimed preacher and author, told this story about his participation in a community-wide Holy Week worship service. Seven pastors from a variety of traditions took turns preaching a message for the congregation but between themselves, it became a kind of friendly preaching contest.
“When it was my turn to preach,” Campolo would recall, “I rolled into high gear. The Spirit must have been with me because I was good. The more I preached, the more the congregation responded. Someone shouted ‘Amen’ and I knew I was cookin’. I was so good, I wanted to take notes on myself.”
When he finished, the congregation was still abuzz as Campolo sat down next to a colleague, the senior member of the group. The silver haired pastor smiled and said, “Son you did alright. But you just sit back now cause this old man’s gonna do you in.”
And he did. With just one line. For over an hour, he preached one line. “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s comin’!” He started his sermon real soft by saying. “It was Friday. It was Friday and Jesus was dead on the cross. But that was Friday, and Sunday’s comin’!” One of the deacons yelled, “Preach, brother preach!” That was all he needed. “It was Friday and Mary was crying her eyes out. The disciples were running every direction, like a sheep without a shepherd. But that was Friday, and Sunday’s comin’! Pilate thought he had washed his hands of a lot of trouble. The Pharisees were struttin’ around laughin’ and pokin’ each other in the ribs because they thought they were back in charge. But they didn’t know that it was only Friday! Sunday’s comin’!”
Campolo said, “He did me in, all right. He nearly did us all in. The congregation was in a frenzy. Finally, at the end of his message he just yelled at the top of his lungs, “IT”S FRIDAY!” And all five hundred of us in the church yelled back, “BUT SUNDAY’S COMIN’!”
I love that story. I love it because I love good preaching but also, more importantly because I love that message. Because that’s the Good News. That is what the world needs to hear. That’s what we need to hear.
In these days when it is just too much, when our newsfeeds are full of the latest tragedies of war, with the casualties of soldiers and civilians alike, it feels like Friday, but Sunday’s comin’. When gas prices soar and the economy puts the squeeze on families already cutting corners, it feels like Friday, but Sunday’s comin’. When peronal grief and anxiety, depression and isolation put us through the hell of Friday, we need to know that the resurrection of Easter Sunday’s comin’.
Resurrection is a promise of hope and possibility that is ever before us. A promise of hope for a better day that is always ahead of us. The realities of life that seem to overwhelm us will be with us. But that is on Friday. Sunday is comin’!
— Reflections appears regularly on the religion page. The column features a variety of local writers, coordinated through the Monroe Area Clergy Group. Todd Hackman is senior pastor at St. John’s United Church of Christ in Monroe.
