I'm posting my Good Friday reflection below - I was one of seven preachers on Friday night at our church as we each reflected on the last seven phrases Jesus uttered from the cross before his death. There's power in sitting in the despair and hopelessness of Friday and its power lies in setting the scene for the joy and hope that come on Easter morning. Lent is finished; resurrection has occurred. Death has been defeated. May your day, and this season, be infused with the kind of hope that can't be dulled by the weight of the world!
Good Friday is Good Because Sunday is Coming...
Do you find yourself trying to avoid
picturing Golgotha? I try not to imagine the scene on the mountain where Jesus
was crucified. The image of Jesus hanging on a cross, flanked on both sides by convicted
criminals who’d been sentenced to death, makes me wince. It’s barbaric and
unnatural – three men, stripped and humiliated, nailed to wood, suffocating
under their own body weight. And the crowd that just stood there watching them
die makes me mad. They were somehow convinced they were superior to the men
hanging and dying in front of them. It should be part of a horror movie.
Whenever I get to this part of the story, I prefer to focus only on Jesus. I
prefer to focus on the way Jesus infuses tenderness into torture and they way
he offers mercy even while he’s in terrible pain. Focusing on his tenderness
and mercy offers my senses some relief. Jesus sanitizes the scene because in
the midst of this supremely human experience, his response is divine.
I want to celebrate the criminal’s
newfound faith as he asks Jesus to remember her when he comes into his kingdom.
But what about the other criminal? I want to forget about the one who tried to
put Jesus to the test and focus only on the one who was “right”. It’s easier
for me to turn the criminal who was trying to save himself by trying to
convince Jesus to display his power into an object lesson about trust and
faithful living, but I don’t think that’s what Jesus did.
Instead, Jesus, in the middle of his
suffering, prayed that God would forgive all the people who didn’t realize what
they were doing. And then Jesus turned to a dying man begging Jesus to remember
him and reassures him saying, “Truly I Tell you, today you will be with me in
paradise.” But what about the criminal who taunted Jesus? I wonder how his
story ended. Did he get condemned for not begging to be remembered? Did God’s
forgiveness stop short of the one who tried to test the reality that Jesus was
the Messiah?
I’ve always clung to the idea that I
certainly don’t have a place in this story. I would never do anything to
put myself in the position of the criminals. I’m far too wise to land myself in
that kind of hot water, aren’t I? Maybe you feel that way, too? The story I
tell myself is this is a cautionary tale – make good choices, don’t break the
law, don’t end up in court and lawyer up to avoid being sentenced to death.
But, when I’m honest, I’ve been the criminal who begged Jesus to prove his
power by saving me. I’ve prayed prayers that tested God’s providence, and I’ve
made unrealistic promises to never mess up again if God would fix just one
thing. That makes me no different that the criminal who tried to appeal to
Jesus’ ego. While there have been times whenI’ve had the clarity of mind
to beg for mercy, I am no less a sinner than the two convicted criminals hanging
on either side of our Savior at Golgotha.
Every time we cling to a crowd who
finds safety in numbers and assures each other the people around us dying and
suffering have done something to secure their own fate, we’re no less sinners
than the convicted criminals hanging on either side of Jesus. Every time we
choose to remain silent because it’s more convenient than speaking out against
injustice, we’re no less sinners than the convicted criminals hanging on either
side of Jesus. Every time we turn a blind eye to those in need around us
instead of seeing God’s image in each person we meet, we are no less sinners
than the convicted criminals hanging on either side of Jesus. And no matter how
many times we test our Savior and challenge him to prove his power, our Savior
responds in his divinity, having already tenderly appealed to God to forgive
us. When we beg to be remembered, Jesus replies lovingly saying, “Truly I tell
you, today you will be with me in paradise.” Amen.