A Good Friday Prayer

I hate this day -- but I've been asked to write the Pastoral Prayer so here's my very first attempt. It may end up in a crumbled heap in the recycling bin.

O God, what a waste.
An alabaster jar might break, but must you?
Must you also break open in this way on this day that we dare to call good?
“Let her alone,” you asked.
You didn’t want the woman with the jar to be troubled,
But we are. We’re troubled by this day where we remember your death.
She did all she could, but did we?
Could we have changed this outcome?
Could we have betrayed less?
Could we have understood better?
Could we have dared to dream another ending to this story?
Or must the story end this way – with this kind of death upon a cross?

Tonight, O God, we wonder as we try to keep awake.
We are deeply grieved, even to death.
O God, we wish this hour would pass so that hope might come again.
We hope that the questions will end.
We hope that the crowds will stop shouting.
We hope that the darkness will be broken by light.
My God, My God, why have you forsaken us?
Why did it have to happen this way?
Why does it have to hurt this much?
O God, what a waste.

Let the alabaster jar break, but don’t let our hope shatter.
Let the betrayer insult, but don’t let our grief overwhelm.
Let others scatter without understanding, but don’t leave us alone.
Tonight, O God, we are troubled by this death that seems like a waste.
Another young life lost.
Another life with possibility ends.
Another beginning ends.
O God, what a waste.
Tonight, we grieve.
Tonight, we mourn.
Tonight, we wait for day to break again.
Wait with us, O God, in the darkness of this night.
Amen.