The Good Friday

I'm about to go mow the lawn, register for my first IUP courses, write my final paper for Advanced CJ Studies and after that, I'm going to watch The Passion of the Christ. (Although this may wait until after Good Friday Service.) When the film first came out, I saw it twice in theaters and was not struck at all by it. I wasn't moved, I didn't flinch. I sat there and calmly ate popcorn trying to ignore the screams of small children that parents had decided to bring to the most graphic portrayal of Christ's death ever made.

On this day, nearly two thousand years ago, the Son of Man was betrayed in the dark hours of the morning unto the servants of the High Priest. Thrice He would tell them "I AM" when asking who they were looking for. More than a confirmation that he was Jesus from Nazareth, He exposed to any observer who truly knew the Torah, that He was God. "I AM", the name which God told Moses when asked for a name.

Just as the Christ had told Peter on Holy Thursday, denial would come to his lips. The maid would ask him if he knew Jesus, and he would deny his Lord. Another sitting by the fire to keep warm with him asked him if he was a disciple of Jesus, and again Peter, the rock, would claim to not know Him. Finally, the Gospels tell us, a relative of Malchus whose ear he had cut off would say to him that he had been in the garden with Jesus, had he not? Peter denied it once more, and the cock crowed. Christ's words to Peter had been fulfilled, before the cock crowed he had denied the Son of Man three times.

Christ would be tossed between rulers, none willing to condemn Him to death. Finally, Pontius Pilate, having tried everything he could to avoid it, washed his hands of the matter and had him ordered to be crucified. Pilate seemed to be disturbed at this, but the Christ said to him not to worry, for the one who had handed him over had committed the greater sin. Perhaps Pilate himself recognized truth when he saw it, even if he was unwilling to admit it aloud. For the sign he had made was "The King of the Jews", while the religious authorities argued with him that it should say, "I am the King of the Jews". Pilate stood firm, even in the midst of a possible uprising over the issue, refusing to change the title of the man he sent to die.

The soldiers beat Him, they cast lots for His clothing. The Scripture was fulfilled that said, "They divided my garments among them, and for my vesture they cast lots." He gave His beloved disciple and all of His followers His mother as He hung upon the cross.

He thirsted...and he was given wine upon a sprig of hyssop, the Passover symbolism undeniable. With the last drink, He gave up His spirit and died with the words, "It is finished". The Romans broke the legs of His fellows being executed to speed up the deaths, but He was already dead, and so again was Scripture fulfilled that His legs would not be broken. His side was pierced to make sure, and blood and water flowed out; medically impossible unless a body has been dead for hours, but it happened none the less and gave sight to the blind centurion.

It was the day of preparation and the hour when lambs would be sacrificed. In keeping with the Passover, the Lamb was sacrificed upon the Cross for the sins of not only Israel, but of all. His body would be taken and laid into a tomb by Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus.

You see, this is Good Friday because of the death of Christ, horrific as it was, forgiving our sins. He died for us. It seems almost oxymoronic to call a brutal death a good thing, but it was for the burden of our sins; as the Divine Mercy Chaplet says, "Eternal Father, I offer you the body and blood, soul and divinity, of Your dearly beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. In forgiveness for our sins, and those of the whole world; for the sake of His sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us, and on the whole world."

Good Friday is not an easy day for me. Christ died after severe torture. My grandfather years ago had a stroke that would leave him unable to move or speak, trapped between life and death for years and I realized for the first time, that there are things in this life far worse than mere death. There is not a Good Friday where I do not fall into tears at some point.

Yet with the seeming darkness of Good Friday, we have the light to look forward to. For He would rise again from the tomb in three days. He would appear to those who knew Him and those who had only heard of Him. In Islamic theology it is said that He had one of His disciples ascend the Cross for Him, but we know that to be incorrect. The Son of God rose from the grave and conquered death and sin for the sake of His sons and daughters throughout the ages. He paid our debt of sin for us and we can not repay Him.

I wish you all a happy Good Friday, for as dark a day as it is, it is a precursor to the joy ahead.