As I walked through the early-morning Good Friday streets of our neighbourhood, quieted by the statutory holiday of this holy day, I saw them. Parents and little children on their way to the Good Friday Easter Egg Hunt at the local garden centre.
I have grumbled about this for years.
It must have been 15 or even 20 years ago I first felt the shock of turning on the TV on Good Friday morning as I prepared to go to church for the liturgy of the Passion, and on the local channel seeing a reporter standing at some garden centre happily inviting everyone to come on down to the fun -- bring the kids, hunt for some eggs and chocolate bunnies, and maybe pick up the Easter lily you want to take grandma on Sunday.
It's only Good Friday, for goodness sake. I almost yelled at the TV that you don't get to Easter without going through Good Friday! They don't get it! They're doing it wrong!
Every year since I have grumbled the same thing as I drive by the packed parking lot of the garden centre on my way out of Dundas, to the Good Friday service I will be leading at church in Winona, a half-hour's drive away.
And this morning I saw them up close -- walking the same streets as me. In the course of only a few minutes, three little clutches of parents and small children. Roused early from bed on a holiday. Dressed warmly against the chill, but with obvious little touches for the occasion -- a bit of purple and yellow, some bunny ears, polka dots mimicking the eggs they will be hunting. And everyone carrying some kind of brightly coloured little bag for holding and taking home the candy they will find.
When I saw the first, I felt my usual little grumble -- the sense of upset that they are not doing this holy weekend right.
When I saw the second, I took a little more notice of the specifics of the apparel and the little candy bags. And how the children so happily held mom's or dad's hand. Remembered the contented happiness I used to feel when I would get up early or do something else the least bit sacrificial for the happiness of my young son.
And by the time I saw the third little clutch of parents and children, what I was seeing was a family heading out to enjoy together some of the goodness of life and of the world, taking time and making special effort to enjoy it together.
And isn't that what God wants?
And isn't that what Good Friday in the end is about? About remembering the part of the story of God that tells us what it is that most makes life good, that keeps the world spinning in a good and life-giving way, that opens the door to good and truly human life in the world over and over again, that is the way to Easter over and over again?
So, what if they go hunting for Easter eggs on Good Friday?
I'm sure they, like all of us, will have their share of Good Fridays along the way as well -- days of deep loss, sorrow and despair, at other times in their lives. Life itself will do that to us.
And that, then, will be the time for someone acquainted with the meaning of Good Friday, to share it with them. Not as a holy day to observe one day of the year. But as a life-giving story and a suffering presence to embrace and be embraced by in the course of a lifetime.
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