It has always struck me that the Fijian translation of Good Friday is simply and literally, ‘Day of Death’. No massaging, no theological euphemisms, just saying is “as it is”, writes Fr Pat Colgan.
Preparations for this day are taken very seriously, and the crosswalks or the dramas with which the people mark the day are often long, physically challenging and emotional.
Such was the case with the five ‘Highland’ villages of Ba today, 40 of whose youth had started carrying the cross in silence on Wednesday morning along the almost 20 mile stretch on the tough and parched roads linking their villages. They were accompanied by the parish catechists of each village (and often by youth of other Christian denominations) who gave teachings each night on the meaning of Holy Week.
Having ‘farewelled’ the parishioners of Ba Town at 6am as they boarded a bus to begin their own cross walk, and knowing that the other section of the parish (the four coastal villages) had also been on the road since 5am, I headed up the hills to Navala, to firstly conduct five baptisms and the admission of 12 young people into our Sacrament of Confirmation Programme.
Jesus (Waisake Maseituba)
By 9am, we were ready to witness the Highland Youths’ rendering of the Passion of St John, which was interweaved by the 14 traditional Stations of the Cross. The lifelike shouts of the soldiers and physical mistreatment of Jesus abruptly brought us back to that day in Jerusalem some 2000 years ago.
Dressed in uniforms culled from cardboard boxes, except for the few wearing Fiji Army fatigues, they pushed Jesus up the hill of the village, where he met his mother and the weeping women, fell and stood up again three times, was helped briefly by Simon of Cyrene, and was finally divested of his clothes right down to his undergarment, at which point he was hoisted over the village on a cross.
‘Burning’ of the congregation’s sins
At one point, I had to make sure that the nail hammering was not an actual crucifixion, but a way of squeezing his legs between 2 narrow slats, which is of course very painful. After death, he was taken down from the Cross into the arms of his mother after which the soldiers carried him into the sacristy for ‘burial’.
Rather than all adjourn to wait for the liturgical 3pm Service of the Passion, I asked that we keep going. In place of individual confessions, a service of communal repentance was led by the catechists, with villages having written down their sins, seeing them go up in flames before the altar.
Veneration of the Cross
The Liturgy of the Word followed, and I also decided to let the youth who had learned their parts off my heart in their drama also conduct the proclamation of the Gospel – the same Jesus, Peter, Pilate, crowd etc.
This was a powerful ‘retake’ of what he had already seen. My homily noted that while the Stations of the Cross (and the other three Gospel writers) emphasises Jesus’ physical suffering on Good Friday, the Gospel of John poses a number of awkward questions to us. ‘Who is Jesus for you?’; ‘Do you (like Peter and the others) also deny knowing him when the chips are down?’; ‘Who is really on trial here – Jesus, Pilate or you?’; What king (meaning power structure) do you choose in your life? Is it that based on violence, patronage and the size of one’s army, or it one whose only weapons are integrity and truth?’
Reading the Passion in Church
The same youth then held up two crosses for the rite of veneration, and we ended with Communion being brought up (and returned) to the house in the village where it had “slept” last night.
After the Liturgy, we retired for the drinking of kava which lasted until exactly 3pm, at which time the village fell silent to mark the hour of Jesus’ death. We then had lunch and I left.
I will say that this “Day of the Dead”, this “Good Day” will remain in my memory for many days, and continue to marvel at the ingenuity of the Fijian people, particularly the young people, in their taking this story to themselves and presenting in a way that shakes one’s liturgical niceties, returning it to the physical, messy and ultimately loving day that it was.
A post Passion hymn to Mary by the young people.