Two complete strangers I encountered that ridiculously hot Good Friday afternoon pointed out to me the “sadness” that seemingly clouded the air. To both of them, I answered “Hindi naman. Mainit lang (Not really. It’s just hot),” and gave them a smile. Jesus is dead, but I was feeling too hopeful to mourn. It’s because of the great conversation I had with a good old friend the previous day, Maundy Thursday. What he told me would change the way I would look at Sunday from now on.
Good Friday is a memorable day for me. It was on this day when I experienced a miracle. It was early evening, and I decided to ride my bike around the neighborhood. From out of nowhere, a speeding tricycle hit me and threw me off toward the other side of the street. I don’t know how long I was unconscious, but when I came to, I saw the shocked driver of the tricycle looking at me from the other side of the road. When he saw me move, he drove away. That’s when I heard a passenger jeepney going toward me. So I picked myself and my bike up. My bike’s front wheel was severely twisted, so I towed it all the way home. Until today, I never told anyone about what happened because I didn’t need to. I came home that night unscathed, with neither a scratch nor bruise on my body.
The fact that we Catholics remember Christ’s passion and death on Good Friday makes this a “sad” day. Old folks would remind us to practice restraint, stay quiet and reflect, and more specifically, avoid playing upbeat and loud music. These days, with all the sophisticated gadgets and communication lines wide open, there’s nothing much that our old folks can do. This, to me, is what makes this even more depressing.
In a way, I have been feeling like a Good Friday for quite sometime now. Years, as a matter of fact. I guess I have to admit that I’m going through mid-life crisis already. People who know me will find this hard to believe because I’ve always been the incurably spirited and optimistic one. So when I cried a river while making a confession to my priest friend, he said he’s not used to seeing me cry. I had been successful all these years trying to be the cheerful friend that he knew me to be, until that day. So when he told me that life is not always a Friday, and that Sunday will come soon, I immediately felt warm and hopeful. He didn’t have to explain any further.
Sunday is bonding time. Sunday is family time. Sunday is pizza and ice cream and everything nice. Most importantly, Sunday is when Jesus rose from the dead after saving us from our sins. Nothing can beat that. Sunday may just be 1 day out of 7 in a week, but I can make it feel like Sunday everyday.
Happy Easter! Happy Sunday today, and always!