Good Friday at My House

Growing up in the South as I did, my family is deeply rooted in Southern tradition. Being part Irish, I am also steeped in the rich Irish Catholic tradition. So when it comes to Good Friday, there are some things that are hard-wired in me to do.
First of all, you do all your planting on Good Friday. I don't care what the agricultural extension people say. My daddy, God rest his soul, had us up at the crack of dawn and out in the garden working. I think the point was for us to suffer along with Christ, I'm not sure; but as a kid I FELT like it was suffering. All had to be finished by noon.
Because at noon, we had to be inside the house, drapes drawn, shades pulled, blinds closed, and lights off. Not a sound from anyone. We were under the threat of death ourselves if we didn't observe the silence. The only thing we were allowed to do was read the Bible (by candlelight) or pray. Three hours is a long time when you're a kid. I got caught sleeping once, and by the look I got, I was immediately consigned to hell.
Then at three, all the lights came back on and it was off to the kitchen to boil the eggs and get ready to dye Easter eggs with mom. We must have done three dozen or so. It was always a competition between my sister and me to see who had the prettiest, the fanciest, the craziest, etc. Then we'd start on the Easter feast. Potato salad, ham, deviled eggs and all the other fixin's.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I continued the traditions with my daughter and, later, my stepchildren and grandchildren. I thought everyone did. Even after seminary training and my first few years in ministry, I never questioned WHY we did these things. It was never explained to me, or if it was I didn't listen or understand. It's only now, at the ripe old age of (I'll-never-tell) that I bothered to look it up!
The tradition of planting on Good Friday commemorates Christ's words in John 12:24 "I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat is planted in the soil and dies, it remains alone. But its death will produce many new kernels—a plentiful harvest of new lives." (NLT) He was applying these words to himself and his ministry, but we recognize and symbolize them when we plant on the day of his death.
The Great Silence from noon until three symbolizes the time described in Mark 15:33 "At noon, darkness fell across the whole land until three o’clock." Now, I would like it noted that nowhere does the Bible say it was QUIET that whole time, but I guess the silence was to give us the opportunity to meditate on the events of that afternoon. It might have been a little more tolerable if I had know why I was being quiet. But then again, I was only a child....
Last but not least the colorful eggs. They were the only things not biblically based. They were just fun! In Medieval Europe, during the strict Lenten fast of forty days, no eggs were eaten. It was traditional to use up all of the household's eggs before Lent began, which established the tradition of Pancake Day. That is also the reason why eggs laid during that time were often boiled or otherwise preserved. It was during Easter that the consumption of eggs resumed after the strict Lenten fast. Eggs were thus a mainstay of Easter meals, and a prized Easter gift for children and servants. This is probably the reason why eggs came to be associated with Easter. They are also a symbol of new life. The coloring of eggs came from many different cultures, but found its most beautiful expression in the Ukraine.
So, this year, as I plant my little herb garden, I'll think of the Lord laid in the tomb and the grain of wheat in the ground. As I darken the house and keep the silence, I'll remember his sacrifice and the way the whole earth paused to mourn that day. As I dye my eggs, I'll remember that he rose again, and the bright colors are the celebration of the new life that Jesus bought for us all on that Good Friday long ago. And this time, I'll wait until Easter to eat them!