This Friday they call good.

This day.

This day that was anything but good.

Cross and nails and thorns and blood.

This day that the earth shook

and the sun blackened

when the wrath of God was spent.

Poured out in full

upon the Holy One

who became our very sin.

And if that were not enough

we, the very ones He died to save, beat and spat and cursed His Holy Name.

This day. This Friday called good.

This day when the veil was rent

when mercy and grace bowed low

as the Holy One begged forgiveness on our behalf

then the Holy One, Jesus, breathing His last – “It is finished.”

And darkness covered the land

it appeared that evil had won.

Silence in the heavens.

Silence on the earth.

Silence as we waited for God’s plan to unfold.

This day. This Good Friday.

Can only be called “Good” in light of Sunday when the earth shook and stone rolled away.

And in this we can rejoice

our sins were crucified

and our debt was paid

and death bought life on this good, good day.

Comments

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Broken Pitcher

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