"Thank God, It's Friday..."

It is meet and right so to do.

Photo by Ajit Sandhu on Unsplash

Perhaps you’ve seen what I did here.

In point of fact, I have neither hidden it away, cloaking it in secrecy, nor have I highighted it in neon to assault your senses. It simply stands there, awaiting your reflections.

So what is it that I have done and invite you to see?

In the title and subtitle of this post I have written two sentences.

• Thank God, it’s Friday…

• It is meet and right so to do.

I feel safe in assuming that for the reader, those sentences are both legible and understandable. No jabberwocky. No Pig Latin. It’s not even Greek. Whatever questions might be raised about these sentences, they will not concern problems in translation.

But placing them next to one another, as title and subtitle, implies a relationship of some kind. And here is where I could lose my audience, if I don’t offer a bit of orientation.

The title (TGIF) I take to be so culturally common that it defies misunderstanding. It is, of course, the trademarked name of a national dining chain. But before it became a restaurant, it was one of our standard cliches, always in waiting, like a church bell which is dormant for a week until it’s time has come to chime.

It’s the second sentence which may elude readers, unless you were of a specific upbringing, or are now of a specific Christian persuasion. Here it is for your inspection.

The C O M M U N I O N .

¶ After which the Prieſt ſhall proceed, ſaying,

Lift up your hearts.

Anſwer. We lift them up unto the Lord.

Prieſt. Let us give thanks unto our Lord

God.

Anſwer. It is meet and right ſo to do.

There it is, directly above. Just as John Baskerville set it in print with his 1662 edition of the Book of Common Prayer. This brief exchange is called the Sursum Corda, which means, appropriately enough, “Lift up your hearts!” It occurs in the order for Holy Communion, and reminds the worshiper of the great and gracious invitation of Christ to draw near, and with the bread and the wine receive the fullness of blessings found in him.

For this our blessing, the priest directs the people to “give thanks to the Lord our God.” And in response the people make this affirmation

It is meet and right so to do.

Loosely translated from the King James-ish wording, the worshiper is acknowledging that thanksgiving, especially as it pertains to the blessings of salvation won at the cross, is indeed the right thing to do; but it is more. It is “meet” - it is fitting, it to our good, and it is the “one thing” from which we can never be deprived.

So let us return to the sentences as I have bundled them:

“Thank God, it’s Friday….. It is meet and right so to do.

Can you see it now? Admittedly not, I would imagine. For our primary referent for TGIF is an ethos of good riddance and celebration. Whatever nightmares you may have encountered at your work this week, you are now done with them. Whatever you had to face which drained your batteries, is now in the past. Good riddance. You are now free to breath again. You can smile. You can even party down. Celebration is in order.

At the heart of our unofficial national motto, surrounding and supporting our work-hard, play-hard culture is something worthy of close attention. TGIF rides piggyback on an affective reality which does wonders for us. It is the welcome relief of knowing that whatever has demanded your time, your energy, or even your life, is done. At least for now. To be released from that which has bound you goes far beyond our secular slogan. Here, life imitates redemption.

The testimony of Scripture is that at the cross where Jesus was crucified, sin was judged and removed; guilt was exchanged for grace; the weary and heavy-burdened find rest; we have died to sin and are alive to righteousness; and on. We who confess the name of Jesus have more reason than anyone to say, “Thank God, it’s Friday.” Thank God that on an afternoon on a Friday, in one certain Near Eastern city, that which has taken us captive, sucking the breath out of us, draining our hearts and minds, and threatening us with death - that is done. It is finished, we might say.

In the redemptive kingdom of Jesus, every day is Friday. Because that Friday is with us always.

So can we add the other sentence? Can we speak it and affirm it right on the heels of TGIF? Does it make sense? I think so. It’s good. It’s Good Friday good, because we see the terrible events of Jesus’ betrayal, arrest, trial, and crucifixion not from the sorrow of Peter, not from the panic and fear of the twelve who were scattered like sheep, but from this side of the resurrection and ascension. From this side of Pentecost when the Spirit poured out the life of Jesus into and onto his church, confirming the efficacy of his once-for-all sacrifice for sins.

Once again, we can give thanks that whatever has threatened us - sin, death, and hell - is done. The fire has gone out. And we can breath deeply with relief knowing it’s not coming back.

So may the words of Friday grant you peace. May the words of Sunday lift up your hearts. It’s all good.