What’s so good about Good Friday?
This question is one that has been the title of blogs, sermons, articles, and YouTube videos. It is a catchy and clickable quip for Christians and non-Christians alike. Typically, the content gives an explanation of the fact that, while Christ suffered immensely on the cross, His victory over it through the Resurrection is the Good News and the means by which we are saved. It is John 3:16. It is the Gospel. Subsequently, we commemorate this day as Good Friday.
All of these things are true – there is no goodness like the goodness of knowing Christ. He came so we might have life and have it in abundance (John 10:10) along with freedom from the weight of sin. As a person who is notorious for looking on the sunny side of everything, I am tempted to let the cup of suffering embodied on Good Friday pass over me while I mentally, emotionally, and spiritually hop straight to Easter. I want to get to the Resurrection without spending too much time looking at the reality of the cross and the very prevalent role of suffering, evil, and darkness in our lives. I want the “good” of Good Friday without entering into the piercing pain of Christ’s suffering.
There is a reason Good Friday is set aside in the church as a day of commemoration and remembrance. Meditating on Jesus’ last hours can be difficult. Imagining His prayer of desperation to God in the Garden of Gethsemane and God’s silence can remind us of painful parts of our life where we feel God’s silence. Reflecting on Peter’s rejection of knowing Jesus and the fleeing of the disciple’s upon Jesus’ arrest can remind us of the places in our life where we are most afraid and are either tempted to run away or already have. Thinking about Mary, the women of Jerusalem, and those who loved Jesus standing at the foot of the cross watching someone they intensely loved suffer unjustly can remind us of the pain we feel when we watch someone we love suffer intensely, but we are powerless to help them.
Entering into the painful parts of Good Friday reminds us that to be human is to suffer. It reminds us that God is God, and we are not.
A few weeks ago, I found myself driving to the funeral of a dear friend’s brother – this brother not being the first, but the second in her family to pass away in a tragic accident. My heart was filled with grief, sadness, and anger for the pain she was carrying. Even briefly putting myself in her shoes and imagining her loss brought immediate tears. My internal wrestling with the pain of these circumstances soon created a long list of pain and suffering I see in the world and do not understand: the war in Ukraine where vicious war crimes are being committed and there seems to be so little recourse to protect and defend innocent lives, broken relationships and the long road to healing that can seem unending once trust is broken, mental health issues my students face that create a sense of overwhelmedness and defeat – all of these thoughts pile up, and I am left questioning the goodness of God and the gentleness of the Father.
What I value about the pain of Good Friday is that it does not leave our questions about suffering unacknowledged. It does not tell us that the spiritual life is easy and joyful. Instead, it gives us hope that even when we face silence in regards to what feels like our greatest needs, when we feel like running away, when we watch those we love suffer – we can hope in Resurrection. We can hope in the Resurrection at the end of our lives, but we can also hope in smaller resurrections too – healed wounds, restored relationships, peace in our hearts in the midst of tumult, and most importantly, a Savior who does not run from pain.
As we are reminded in Hebrews 4:15, “For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things just as we are, yet without sin.”
“A Man Named Job” has become my go-to song when I feel overwhelmed by the weight of the world. As you can guess, the lyrics explore the story of Job. The song ends with a few simple lyrics:
This man we know named as Job, he falls unto the ground
Covers his hand to his mouth so words won’t utter out
“My God, your wonderful ways, no man can understand.
So now I’ll give you my days, because all I need is you.”
My prayer for you and myself today is that we enter into the Passion of Christ, acknowledging His pain, suffering, and longing alongside the pain, suffering, and longing we carry in our own hearts. As Christ offers Himself for the redemption of the world, we too can offer our hearts to God to be transformed and renewed by the impending Resurrection.
