Still thinking about Good Friday

From Henri Nouwen's "Adam":

"What now? What next? How would we go on? Could we go on? During the days of Adam's wake and burial there still was a sense of his presence. We could still look at his youthful face and touch him. Now there was only emptiness, absence. I kept wondering how Jesus' friends must have felt after his burial. Numb? Confused? Angry? Bitter? The bottom of their existence had fallen out! The meaning of their lives had been taken away! Everything had come to a complete standstill. No more teaching and preaching, no common meals and shared moments of prayer and quiet, no more intimate times of conversation. Where were the crowds, the miracles, the great expectation of a new order, of true freedom? Where was the abundance of fish and bread and the pure joy of living? A large stone had been rolled across the entrance of the tomb (Matt. 27:60), and seals had been put on the stone (Matt. 27:66). The finality of it all was so shocking. What was there to do by go home or just sit in pure bewilderment?

"We cannot speak or even think about resurrection without entering into the depth of our grief. Neither Jesus' friends nor the friends of Adam could say, 'Don't cry, he will return.' We needed to cry, to feel his loss, to mourn his passing. Grief is emptiness, darkness, meaninglessness, uselessness, paralysis. Even more it is a gradual dying within us of the loved one who had found a dwelling place in our hearts. Grief is a departing hour by hour, day by day, minute by minute. For a long time we think or act as if he is still there, but at every turn we realize he is gone, for all time...It is an ongoing dying, a being surprised again and again by his absence, a slow, painful leaving, a wrenching loneliness. We cannot circumvent our grief. We cannot shorten it. We have to give it time, much time." (116-118)