How Is This Good?

The Tension of Good Friday

Read Luke 23:26-47

Luke 23:26–47 NIV

As the soldiers led him away, they seized Simon from Cyrene, who was on his way in from the country, and put the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus. A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. Jesus turned and said to them, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children. For the time will come when you will say, ‘Blessed are the childless women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!’ Then “ ‘they will say to the mountains, “Fall on us!” and to the hills, “Cover us!” ’ For if people do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?” Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be executed. When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified him there, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots. The people stood watching, and the rulers even sneered at him. They said, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is God’s Messiah, the Chosen One.” The soldiers also came up and mocked him. They offered him wine vinegar and said, “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.” There was a written notice above him, which read: this is the king of the jews. One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last. The centurion, seeing what had happened, praised God and said, “Surely this was a righteous man.”

Read Luke 23:26-47.

Let’s Pray.

Today is Good Friday. It is, arguably, the single, holiest day of the year for Christians. It’s the day where we remember the single greatest act that Jesus did for each and every single one of us. Its the day we remember Christ’s crucifixion.

And we call it Good Friday because we know it’s good, but - at least for myself - I admit that I feel more conflicted as I prepare my heart for this evening more than I do for any other service of the year. I feel this flood and tension of my emotions between what I know in my mind is a good thing. I know that it is good that Jesus went to the cross, that he allowed all of this to be done to him, because he freed to world in his suffering. But as a man who has felt the love of my Lord. As a man who thinks of Jesus and knows how good he is and, in my heart, I know how much pain and how much suffering he took on - the pain and suffering meant for me - that he took that on so I wouldn’t have to. Even this other side of the coin from head to heart still has another dynamic that makes it even deeper and more dimensional because I love him for what he did for me, but I hurt because I know that death, that suffering is what I deserve. It was meant for me, and he took that on, on my behalf.

And all of this gets wrapped up in this torrent of emotions, the war that I feel like is waged on my soul each and every Good Friday and I know I can’t be alone in this. I know this because we call this day Good Friday, but I see more tears during this service than I do joyous laughter. It’s because we feel the whirlpool, this chaos of emotions that surround the “goodness” of this day, and I think that’s how we’re meant to feel. In fact, I think this is exactly what the Gospel authors wanted us to feel, because as we read their accounts of these events, as we read Luke’s account of this event, we see the whirlpool of emotions that were swirling around Jesus that day, the chaos of it all. We see shame after shame and burden after burden placed upon the shoulders of this King - this God - who rode in only 5 days earlier being touted as the King and the Messiah. How can we call what we just read “good” when we see all that he endured? And he endures it from every single angle in this story.

How can we call it good?

How can we call it good when we see how this day was perceived by those that loved him most? Those that followed him wailing and hurting. Watching this man who they knew to be a healer, teacher, friend, and savior. They followed and they watched as Jesus, scourged to the point of showing bone, bleeding and dying already, as he followed his cross to the main gates, to the place called “the Skull”. How can anything be good about this day?

Jesus, the only human being who knew no sin, the man who was so good that not even Satan himself could tempt him into sin when Jesus was at his weakest, now was led as a criminal - not even a common criminal because crucifixion wasn’t for common crime. Crucifixion was reserved for the worst of crimes and only those that were not considered Romans. Jesus was led alongside these men and counted amongst their number. How can this day be good?

Then he was nailed to the cross. The hands that had healed the blind, cured the sick, restored the lame, a fed the thousands were nailed, blow by agonizing blow, to the cross. The feet that had walked upon the Sea of Galilee were now nailed to a tree. How can this day be good?

But they weren’t done there. This wasn’t enough. Death wasn’t enough. Crucifixion was about more than just death. It was about shame and humiliation and the soldiers, the leaders, and the crowds weren’t going to miss their opportunity to shame this man who they called “the King of the Jews”.

First, they stripped them of their clothing so that now even their bodies, their ability or inability to hold their bowels was on display for the world to see. But even while the innocent Jesus was hung on the cross dying, the soldiers turned from him. Instead of looking toward the cross and seeing what they were doing, they were more concerned with entertainment and what they could get. They threw dice and gambled for Jesus’ clothing. And while we might not have been there, as I was reading this week, I wonder how often we turn our own eyes from Jesus, we turn our own backs on knowing what our sin did upon the cross and, instead, we fix our eyes on entertainment and materialism instead? How on earth can this day be called good?

But the rulers weren’t finished with Jesus. Naked and dying wasn’t enough. They cat called him, calling him by the titulus that hung above his head “the King of the Jews”. If he was truly the Messiah, the King, which how could anybody think that this man, this man who had lost, could possibly be the Messiah? The Messiah was supposed to be a winner not a loser. So, they told him to save himself. How can any of this be good?

And finally, as if this wasn’t enough, we see that as Jesus hung on the cross, being ridiculed by rulers, decimated by soldiers, cat called by the crowds, and mourned by his followers, it turns out that even the man dying beside him felt that even he was above this pitiful excuse for a so-called Messiah. Even the criminal hanging on the cross joined in to hurl an insult at Jesus.

And with all of this shame, with all of this evil, with all of this sin weight him down, Jesus did not last more than a few hours upon that wretched cross. Instead of being the Messiah that would save and rule the world, the man called Jesus gave up his soul to his Father and breathed his last breath. Even the world sighed with its pain as darkness spread across the land knowing that all of the light, all of the goodness, had just been extinguished from the world. Jesus, the King of Palm Sunday, the Bread and the Wine of Maundy Thursday, the Word, the Truth, and the Life had life no more upon that awful cross, laid bare for the world to see.

Reading this story, how can we call this good? With this absolute chaos that surrounded the base of the cross, with the whirlpool of misery and suffering, mourning and wailing, how can we call this day good?

The only answer lies in Jesus. He is the tempest of love that comes blowing through all of this chaos, and from beginning to end we see that he is the only one, the only strand within this story that holds the tension between all of this evil and the eternal good that was to come.

In each one of these four parts, we see Jesus make a statement and reveal why this day, when it is so full of darkness, would be so good.

As the women wail, we see that Jesus’ own lament, his own love for the world is even stronger than their own. He knows why he must go, and he knows where he is going. He has no false impressions on how he is going to get there, but he knows that why lies ahead of his followers is going to be worse. He knows the coming destruction of the temple and what awaits them and so he mourns for them. It is because of his love for them because of his relentless and resilient love for the world that he allows this to happen.

As they nailed his hands and feet to the cross adding to the physical agony that Jesus had already endured, it was not his pain that pained him most, but the pain of knowing what these people’s sin would lead them to. Instead of cursing them as we would expect, cursing them as they might even deserve, Jesus’ resilient love for the world commands the words from his lips, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”

And as the rulers and kings shamed him and told him to “save himself” it was Jesus and Jesus alone who knew the answer to their question. He could not. He could not save himself because to save himself would mean that the world would die. He had to die in order to save the very people that were killing him. It is this tempest of God’s love that cuts through the middle of this story and we see just how good it is. We see how apparent and real God’s love for any and all of those that were looking for it that day.

Because even as we reach the man that should be the most detestable in the story, the man who from the cross adds to the ridicule and shame of Jesus, it is not Jesus who responds, but the man opposite him who sees the goodness of God’s love radiating from the dying body of the man next to him. He rebukes the man and proclaims the goodness of who Jesus is. Jesus is an innocent man hung upon a cross next to men who are deserving of the punishment. The prophecy says that the suffering servant would be “counted amongst them”, and the crucified sinner turned and asked Jesus to remember him in his kingdom. He proclaimed that this man was still king.

And God’s love, like that tempest mountain wind cutting straight through a blizzard, was revealed on last time as Jesus told him that he would feast with him in the kingdom. This man who, by his own words, proclaimed that he was deserving of the cross, even he was loved by Jesus.

When we fix our eyes on the world that day, when we fix our eyes on the crowds, when we fix our eyes on the soldiers, on the leaders, and on the prisoners, we realize that there is no good to be seen about this Friday. Even when we fix our eyes on the cross, there is nothing more than a reminder of the depths of human depravity and our willingness to torture one another. When we look at these elements of the story there is truly nothing good that can be said about this day.

But when we fix our eyes on Christ, we find the “good” in Good Friday. The tempest of God’s love blowing through the world one more time, cutting through the whirlwind of emotion and depravity of humanity, and revealing God’s Resilient Love for us. A love that was willing to endure all of this and continue to see us and worthy of blessing and worthy of salvation. When we fix our eyes on Christ, the story becomes transformed by his very presence. When we fix our eyes on Christ, we become transformed. When we fix our eyes on Christ even something as despicable as a cross can take on new meaning and beauty. This is the power of God’s resilient love, but we should never forget the cost.

Just as the Romans placed the crosses of the crucified at the main gates so that all would see them and be deterred by their fate. Let us not put crosses around our necks, on our wrists, around our homes, on our cars, and even tattooed on our bodies and forget what it cost to transform that symbol of death and shame to a symbol of hope. It wasn’t free. It cost the only good part of this story, the only good part of this day, the only Very Good human to ever walk this earth everything. That is the cost of the grace that we receive. So let us place the crosses of our life where we can see them, where we can be moved by them, and where we can be reminded that it was our sin that held him there, it was our sin that weighed him down, and it was only by God’s Resilient Love that the cross became “Good”.

But it would not be good that first Friday after Passover. It would only be dark. As darkness fell over the land, as the Roman Centurion pierced his side and proclaimed that “this was a righteous man,” that, “truly, this was the Son of God” the world wept, and God died on a cross. And the world waited in anxiety and longing for what would come next. Let us feel the depth of this cost to turn such an awful Friday into something Good.

Let’s Pray.