Koonung Heights – Surrey Hills Uniting Church
Service of Worship at Home
Good Friday – 18 April 2025 – 9am or whenever possible
You may like to light a candle during your time of worship.
Feel free to text the Peace to other members of the congregation.
Introit: “The Servant King” – (TiS 256)
From heaven you came, helpless babe, entered our world, your glory veiled;
not to be served, but to serve, and give your life that we might live.
This is our God, the Servant King, he calls us now to follow him,
to bring our lives as a daily offering of worship to the Servant King.
Candle Lighting:
Today, Good Friday,
light is threatened by the powers of darkness.
As we light this candle,
it’s fragile flickering flame
pushes back the darkness.
Let us hear again the story of Jesus –
the One who confronted darkness
in order to defeat it.
Acknowledgement of Country:
As we gather today,
I acknowledge the Wurundjeri WoiWurrung People,
traditional custodians of this land under God.
I pay my respects their elders, past and present,
and to all future generations and leaders.
May we all be prepared to enter the hard stories of our past,
working for justice and peace for all people.
Call to Worship:
Come, behold the man of suffering.
We have come.
Come, look at his appearance.
We have come.
Come, gather around the cross to see him.
We have come.
Come, weep, as the curtain falls over the light of the world.
We have come. We see. We behold. We weep.
Gathering Words:
On Good Friday we are invited to enter the story of Jesus’ betrayal, arrest, trial, crucifixion and burial. It is hard and it is horrifying to imagine the suffering of the one we love so much. It may fill us with grief, and connect with the grief we carry because of others we have loved and lost. Be gentle with yourselves; approach boldly, and with care. If you need to lean on someone, make sure you do, as we walk together on this pilgrim path together.
As we journey we will linger in the in-between places. We will sing, pray, read scripture and read between the lines, imagining parts of the story through the eyes of figures who are often overlooked. After all, Jesus spent most of his time journeying with the people who slip through the cracks in society.
Opening Prayer:
Holy God,
Today is not a day for joy, yet we are here.
The violent pain that Jesus endured
makes us want to hide and wait until it is over;
it makes us want to ignore his wounds altogether.
Yet in the miracle of grace,
you have drawn us here,
along with millions around the world,
that we might remember Christ’s sacrifice
and covenant of grace.
As we worship today
and undertake the ancient work of remembering,
we ask that you open our hearts to feel anew
why today is called ‘Good Friday’.
In Jesus’ name we pray,
Amen.
We Sing: “Were you there” – (TiS 345)
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
were you there when they crucified my Lord?
O sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble;
were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when the sun refused to shine?
were you there when the sun refused to shine?
O sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble,
were you there when the sun refused to shine?
Bible Reading: Luke 23:13-27
– Jesus Sentenced to Death
13 Pilate then called together the chief priests, the leaders, and the people 14 and said to them, “You brought me this man as one who was inciting the people, and here I have examined him in your presence and have not found this man guilty of any of your charges against him. 15 Neither has Herod, for he sent him back to us. Indeed, he has done nothing to deserve death. 16 I will therefore have him flogged and release him.”
18 Then they all shouted out together, “Away with this fellow! Release Barabbas for us!” 19 (This was a man who had been put in prison for an insurrection that had taken place in the city and for murder.) 20 Pilate, wanting to release Jesus, addressed them again, 21 but they kept shouting, “Crucify, crucify him!” 22 A third time he said to them, “Why, what evil has he done? I have found in him no ground for the sentence of death; I will therefore have him flogged and then release him.” 23 But they kept urgently demanding with loud shouts that he should be crucified, and their voices prevailed. 24 So Pilate gave his verdict that their demand should be granted. 25 He released the man they asked for, the one who had been put in prison for insurrection and murder, and he handed Jesus over as they wished.
The Crucifixion of Jesus
26 As they led him away, they seized a man, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming from the country, and they laid the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus. 27 A great number of the people followed him, and among them were women who were beating their breasts and wailing for him.
Story: Simon of Cyrene
Of course they chose me to carry a criminal’s cross. Because of my dark skin and foreign clothes, the soldiers mark me as a man no one will stick up for – at least not against Roman spears.
I’m not surprised by the crowd’s silence, but it still stings. No matter how many years I make my Passover pilgrimage to this land, they’ll never see me as fully one of them. Wherever I go, I’m a man torn in two: not Cyrenian enough for my homeland; not Jewish enough for Jerusalem.
And now, I’m not even human enough for the Romans, who look at me and see nothing but a body they can force into service.
Halfway up the hill, I’m not sure I’m going to make it. Is the beam getting heavier as it digs into my shoulder? But the soldier’s whips and spears warn me what will happen if I stumble or stop.
For just a moment, the criminal whose cross I carry turns around and meets my gaze There’s compassion in his eyes, as if he’s sorry for my pain – mine! – when we both know the agony he is about to go through!
Just when I think my legs will give out, the criminal pauses, forcing the soldiers to stop too. At last, a moment of rest.
He’s stopped in front of a throng of crying women. What is he saying? “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me.” He is comforting them, too!
Suddenly, I’m so ashamed to shoulder a cross for this man, whom the poor and powerless love so well. A poor, battered, exhausted soul, just steps away from death – and yet, he radiates compassion. And yet, he is loved.
Truly that is power, beyond Rome’s wildest imagination.
Confession:
When we follow in the steps of Jesus, we say ‘yes’ to bearing his cross –
not because there is any value in suffering,
not to prove our selflessness, nor because God wills it,
but because living as Jesus lived makes the cross inevitable.
So together, let us pray:
Jesus, when we side we you,
we side with all who threaten the status quo.
When we refuse the call
to see others’ struggles as our own,
we abandon them to shoulder their crosses alone.
So we pray, O God,
embolden us to accept the risks that come with following you –
even as we resist the powers and systems
that set crosses on our shoulders.
Amen.
Words of Assurance:
Friends, hear these words of hope:
when we get it wrong, God is still faithful.
Through Christ, our sins are not only forgiven,
they are also forgotten,
for Christ blotted out the ledger book with his love.
Thanks be to God.
We Sing: “I will sing the wondrous story” – (TiS 233)
I will sing the wondrous story of the Christ who died for me,
how he left the realms of glory for the cross on Calvary.
Yes, I’ll sing the wondrous story of the Christ who died for me,
sing it with his saints in glory, gathered by the crystal sea.
Days of darkness still may meet me, sorrow’s paths I oft may tread;
but his presence still is with me, by his guiding hand I’m led.
Yes, I’ll sing the wondrous story of the Christ who died for me,
sing it with his saints in glory, gathered by the crystal sea.
Bible Reading: Luke 23:39-43
39 One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingdom.” 43 He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”
Story: The criminal on the cross
Paradise. That’s what my companion and I are guilty of: intent to bring paradise to our poor, oppressed people, no matter the cost. That’s not how Rome sees it, of course; they charged us with robbery and sedition.
We’d heard Jesus was back in town, that he’d ridden in like a king of old in challenge to Pilate’s grand parade – and we’d thought he must be here to kick off a rebellion. After all his preaching about the nearness of God’s kingdom, and calling himself son of God in defiance to Caesar … what could he possibly be promising but revolution?
And how does revolution come about, if not with swords? So we ambushed the soldiers to seize their weapons. Clearly, it didn’t go as planned. Clearly, Jesus never meant to lead an insurrection after all.
So here we are, about to die with him anyway, and I get why my companion feels betrayed, why he mocks the man we’d pinned our hopes on.
Still, I can’t bring myself to hate Jesus. All the way through my arrest, my trial, my struggle up this hill, I’ve been pondering …
Could Jesus know a different path to paradise? A way to hold yourself somewhere between violence and passivity as you fight for justice? A kind of revolution that refuses to use the Empire’s weapons and instead creates its own tools for dismantling oppression?
I shouldn’t have any hope left: not while hanging here between life and death, with no riot, no liberation, no second chance for me. The Messiah we thought would overturn Rome is slowly suffocating to death beside me.
Things are hopeless – and yet, absurdly, I hope. Today I head for paradise. Tomorrow others will take up the work for a better world – until God’s kingdom comes to earth at last.
We Sing: “Jesus, remember me” – (TiS 730)
Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.
Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.
Preparation for the last reading:
We have come to the final reading: Luke’s version of Jesus’ dying moments.
Jesus does not die quietly; he cries out and shouts his last words to God. After he dies, the crowd of his fellow poor and oppressed Jews make noise too, beating their chests in grief as they leave the scene. The Gospel of Matthew even reports the earth quaking.
Before we join Jesus for his last breath, I want to let you know of other things that will happen during and after the reading. Candles will be extinguished, fabric will be torn in two, and a voice will shout Jesus’ last words.
When the reading is over we will create the crowd’s grief and the earth’s quaking. At that time join me in stomping your feet or patting your knees. Then we will stop, and move into a moment of silence.
Bible Reading: Luke 23:44-48
– The Death of Jesus
44 It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, 45 while the sun’s light failed, and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. 46 Then Jesus, crying out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Having said this, he breathed his last. 47 When the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God and said, “Certainly this man was innocent.” 48 And when all the crowds who had gathered there for this spectacle saw what had taken place, they returned home, beating their breasts.
Response:
Let us, for a moment, sit in the uncomfortable silence of death.
After the betrayal, the accusations, the torturous execution, there seemed to be nothing left of Jesus’ life’s work, his vision of an upside-down kingdom where the last are first. The Empire stomped out his spirit, and that was the end …
Except.
There were women who stayed with Jesus until the very end.
Except.
There was the body that had embrace, and fed, and touched so many lives – a body that was still honoured, still cared for, still loved.
Except.
There was Joseph or Arimathea, who gave up his own tomb to bury the Son of God. A member of the same Jewish council that charged Jesus with blasphemy, Joseph reminds us that grace abounds. Joseph voted against a conviction, and risked safety and good standing in order to recover Jesus’ body for the women who cherished him.
There was ritual, the motions that carried the women through their grief: burial and the anointing of the body, with Sabbath rest in between, giving them space to mourn.
So our service ends in this space between death and resurrection, as the friends and followers of Jesus go home devastated and afraid. We linger with them, because grief matters. Even when we know a joyful new beginning is soon to come, the grief and pain are still real and deserve to be heard.
We Sing: “When I survey” – (TiS 342)
When I survey the wondrous cross
on which the Prince of glory died,
my richest gain I count but loss,
and pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
save in the death of Christ my God;
all the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to his blood.
See from his head, his hands, his feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down;
did e’er such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown.
Were the whole realm of nature mine, that were a present far too small:
love so amazing, so divine demands my soul, my life, my all.
Blessing and Sending:
And so we leave communal worship
to enter deeper into this liminal space
between life, death, and life again.
Go with the knowledge that the Triune God –
who fashioned you with love,
whose Spirit breathes in and through you,
and who shares in your every sorrow
and every joy –
goes with you,
even in doubt, even in death,
even to the end of the age.
Go in peace, and in silence,
to wait with those who wait,
and mourn with those who mourn.
Amen.
Thanks to all those who have assisted in preparation for this liturgy with encouragement, prayers and conversation. I have also utilised the following resources:
Sanctified Art (Everything in Between), Ministry Matters and Fig Tree Worship.