Good Friday, the day we remember the crucifixion of Jesus. The personal sacrifice of One for all. For me. For you.
On this day we remember Jesus carrying that cross for us. We remember him willfully stretching out his arms as they nailed him to that cross, signifying “this much.” This is how important you are. This is how loved you are. This much, with arms wide open. And we remember his excruciating death, the pain inflicted, the burdens carried, the weight of it all which took his final breath.
What an incredibly sad day. The day the world fell dark and our Jesus was crucified for being nothing other than holy, righteous, miraculous and pure.
And yet, we call it Good Friday.
The worst day in history when evil prevailed and the son of God was unjustly put to death between two thieves. It was bad. Painful. Dark. Terrifying. Unfair. And yet it was Good.
It was the ultimate good.
It was the good the world could not see which God had planned. The good which would not be revealed without the bad. The good which would allow the worst to first unfold. The good which would require some time. (Maybe there’s some good in the works in your life, but right now it looks bad. Take notice of how God works.)
Let’s read the story of this day:
Mark 15: 22-39 They brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha (which means “the place of the skull”). Then they offered him wine mixed with myrrh, but he did not take it.
**Do you know why the offering of this wine mixed with myrrh is important? Why such a specific, seemingly unimportant detail to be included in the record when Jesus refused it? It’s important because this mix was a drug which dulled the senses. An offering to the one facing an agonizing death by crucifixion, making it more bearable. But Jesus refused. He refused ease from the suffering. He wanted a clear mind while he hung on the cross. Why? So he could think of me and you. So he could give wholly of himself, enduring it to the full for us.
24 And they crucified him. Dividing up his clothes, they cast lots to see what each would get.
It was nine in the morning when they crucified him. The written notice of the charge against him read: the king of the jews.
They crucified two rebels with him, one on his right and one on his left. Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads and saying, “So! You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, come down from the cross and save yourself!” In the same way the chief priests and the teachers of the law mocked him among themselves. “He saved others,” they said, “but he can’t save himself! Let this Messiah, this king of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe.” Those crucified with him also heaped insults on him.
***Could he have come down at that moment? Could he have called down an Army of angels from heaven to avenge him and destroy his accusers? Absolutely. It was all within his power, but it wasn’t within his purpose. His purpose was to pay the ultimate price for us. And because of that purpose, he endured. Because of that purpose, he took the insults, he took the pain and he took the punishment, so that we wouldn’t have to.
33 At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And at three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).
When some of those standing near heard this, they said, “Listen, he’s calling Elijah.”
***I always found Jesus’ final words confusing and burdensome. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Every translation of the bible reads the same. There is no alternate meaning here or way to read it. Jesus is saying God has turned his back on him in these final moments. Why?
When Jesus hangs on the cross, despised, suffering,