It’s Good Friday. I’m not sure why we call it “good”. It certainly didn’t seem so 2,000 years ago. If I was to name holidays, I would switch the names of this Friday and Black Friday. Then we could have Black Friday (the day when the sky prematurely went black) and Good (deal) Friday. But I’m afraid no one would like that.
The thing is, though it was “good” when you think of the ultimate triumph of that Friday, no one thought so on the day when Jesus was crucified. Save, perhaps, some Pharisees, Sadducees and a guy named Herod. They were quite happy when Jesus died. The spirit world erupted into chaotic joy…like in the parable of the Tenants, where the wicked tenants said “This is the heir. Come, let us kill him and have his inheritance.’’ (Matthew 21:38)
It seemed to be a very BAD Friday then. But even when things were darkest, odd phenomena broke out, hinting that the day wasn’t over. For one thing, the curtain in the temple separating God and Man tore from the top down. No one understood that this meant that a mediator had made the temple sacrifices obsolete. Some dead people came out of their graves and began to prophesy. No one understood that Jesus would very soon rise again.
On Sunday, the day we call Easter, (another odd name) all these things would be explained. But today, on Good Friday, we remember the cross, the pain, the sacrifice for sin. The beauty of Easter is preceded by the pain of Good Friday…God, be merciful to me, a Sinner!
Who is this man, who bears the scars?
What is his lowly name?
For surely he is a wretched soul
to be treated with such shame!
What was his crime, who suffers there
What was his great offense?
What is this burden he must bear
That he should die like this!
Has he no friends, to be alone
Why must he suffer there?
The awful load of sin and guilt
How hard it is to bear!
It is our God, who suffers there!
How hard for us to see!
As each professes, in his heart
“He suffered there for me!”
– Rebekah Hair