Finding the Good in Friday

CrossOnHill.HSGood Friday.

For the longest time, I did not understand how this particular Friday could be labeled as good.

To be beaten, flogged and scourged to nearly unrecognizable;
to have a crown of thorns pressed into my head;
to be nailed to a tree with spikes through my wrists and feet;
to die by crucifixion alongside common criminals …
No. None of this, I’ve imagined, could be good if I would have had to experience it.
I didn’t have to, but I knew Jesus had experienced it all.
How could it be that we’d wind up called this a “good” kind of Friday when He had to go through that?


I attended a Presbyterian church as a child. Church was something we did on Sundays, and during my high school years, I also attended a youth group during most weeks. I was raised with good morals. We were taught to do the right thing, to fear and respect authority, to pray before dinner and bedtime, and to be good people.

Sunday mornings at church were almost the same each week. Being there wasn’t the most enjoyable part of my week, but there were two particular services I especially looked forward to each year:  the 11 p.m. Christmas Eve Candlelight Service and the solemn Good Friday service.

The Good Friday church service was also known as the Tenebrae Service. “Tenebrae” is a Latin word meaning “shadows” or “darkness.” This service was different from any other during the Christian year because it was supposed to be very solemn. There were a few quiet hymns, readings about the events leading up to Christ being nailed on the cross, and sober readings from the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) about Jesus’ time on the cross.

Much of the Tenebrae Service was done in dim light or candle light. Following the readings, the chancel area in the front of the church was stripped of the Bible, the offering plates, and the gold cup and plate. The candles were extinguished and the gold candlesticks were removed, and the cloths that covered the front table and pulpits were taken away. All of this was done in silence. Everyone would sit in complete silence while observing these items being removed from their places in the church.

Then, we’d leave in silence. The lights were turned up just enough for us to see, but we’d all leave in silence. Complete silence. There were no greetings, no hugs, no handshakes, no well-wishes to one another. There was no Reverend to greet us as we’d make our way out the door. We’d just walk back the aisle, down the steps, out the door, and we’d get into our car to go home. The silence even continued in the car.

I think this service touched me in some way, because it seemed to contain emotion. I remember often being bored with the monotony of Sunday services. The hymns, messages and sermons varied each week, but the order was always the same. I don’t remember feeling much joy or worship-filled emotion about the services unless we’d sing something like “Go Tell it on the Mountain,” “Alleluia,” or “Jesus Christ is Risen Today.”

The Tenebrae Service did have emotion. I felt the emotion, even though it wasn’t full of joy. The service always felt mournful. It felt dark and without light — a mere glimpse of what it must have been on that crucifixion day two thousand years ago.


Jesus was nailed to the cross in the morning at about 9 a.m.** after enduring questioning, a trial and brutal beatings. Once that cross was set in place, He hung there until noon, at which point the skies overhead darkened. The darkness lasted for three hours, and around 3 p.m., Jesus cried out amid His suffering and suffocation to proclaim, “Tetelestai!” before giving up his spirit and breath of life.
It was finished.

Most of us automatically equate the “it is finished” to His life, since, just moments afterward, His life was over on this particular Friday afternoon — the day we commemorate in remembrance as “Good Friday.” However, the “it is finished!” was much more than just a part of the final words he uttered in the final moments of His life before giving over his life and spirit. The “it is finished!” was His “paid in full” proclamation regarding our sin.

He paid the ultimate price by taking the sins of all mankind – the past, present and future sins of the past, present and future mankind — upon himself and shedding His own blood to redeem us in exchange for Himself. The ransom price was paid, and the salvation plan was now complete. He had completed the will of God and the will of the Father.


That’s where the “Good” comes in. He suffered for us. He demonstrated his self-sacrificing love for us and for our wrongdoings by dying for us (Romans 5:8). What He did for us once, does not have to be repeated by all of us (1 Peter 3:18) in order for us to live eternally in His presence (John 3:16).

For the longest time, I didn’t understand how His death could be “good” and recognized as “Good Friday.” I knew He died for us, but I guess I just didn’t fully grasp that He died for ME.


About 13 years ago, I went to a new church. On my first visit to this church there was a song sung by the congregation which stood out to me. I didn’t know it, so I didn’t sing it. I just listened. I didn’t understand what the words meant, but that song awakened something within me.

The song was Above All. The words which resonated with me were:

“… crucified, laid behind the stone.”
I understood this.

“… lived to die, rejected and alone.”
What did this mean?
Ok, He died on that cross, but what did it mean that he “lived to die?”

“… You took the fall and thought of me above all.”
Me? Me?!? What did that mean?
What did I have to do with what He did?
I didn’t get it, but I was curious.

I’ll never forget those words. An awakening within me had begun. I had come to that new church with questions, but now — after only one visit — there was an even bigger question burning within my mind … and in my heart. That question was one that would lead to knowing what He did for ME, and one that would lead to me knowing HIM personally.

That’s what is good about Good Friday.

He died for US.
He died for ME.
If He died for us, and if He died for me, then he also died for YOU.
That’s what is good about Good Friday.

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 **Notes about the times of day:

The Gospel of Mark uses “the third hour” to designate when Jesus was crucified or put on the cross. This would have been 9 a.m. (Mark 15:25). Mark then goes on to say that at “the sixth hour,” darkness came over the land (Mark 15:33). This would be noon or 12 p.m. In Mark 15:34, we are told that Jesus cried out in the ninth hour, at 3 p.m., and then, shortly afterwards, took his last breath (Mark 15:37).

The Gospels of Matthew and Luke use similar time designations (see Matthew 27:45 and Luke 23:44). This way of calculating time was based on the Jewish method, where 6 a.m. would have been the first hour of the day, so noon would have been the sixth hour and 3 p.m. would have been the ninth hour. It is believed the Gospel of John, which presents a different time for the start of the crucifixion, used a Roman method of time calculation, which would have started the day at midnight (John 19:14). There could have, however, been a three-hour period of time between his sentencing before Pilate (sixth hour) and time Jesus spent under the charge of the soldiers, time spent carrying his cross (John 19:17) and arriving at Golgotha where the crucifixion took place.

Various commentaries show a consistency in these interpretations of time. I’ve used Sonic Light, The Bible Knowledge Commentary (see my Recommendations page on the last tab above) and Got Questions for my sources in this post.

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Finding Hope in the Unexpected

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What am I expecting?
Hoping for?
Looking for?
Longing for?

Two thousand years ago, they were hoping for a way out of oppression.
They were longing for freedoms.
They were looking for a king …
… a king who would do all of this and more for them.

This past Sunday, Palm Sunday, marked the commemorative start of the Christian Holy Week. In many of our churches, we marked it by handing out palm fronds. Sometimes the fronds have been woven into a cross-like symbol meant to be kept as a remembrance. Some churches give out a single spear from a palm leaf, some give a small frond, and some hand palms out to wave during a particular worship song.

Last year I happened to be in Montreal, Canada, for the start of the Holy Week, and I visited the Notre-Dame Basilica just before Palm Sunday. I had been there as a teenager on a senior trip with my French class, and I wanted to see the grandeur of that church again. The only way to see the interior of the church on that particular day was to pay for a narrated program, laser light show and brief tour. That wasn’t what I had been hoping for. It’s amazing how one’s perspective on a church building can change after a few decades.

I also wanted to revisit the Gardens of the Way of the Cross at St. Joseph’s Oratory of Mount Royal in Montreal.  We came upon the glass doors leading into the garden only to find them locked. Deep snows covered the ground, so we couldn’t take in the peacefulness of the Stations of the Cross. The “Gift Shop” with a book about the Gardens was closed, too, but, those palm frond crosses many churches hand out on Palm Sunday? They were selling them inside the entry on this particular afternoon. That wasn’t what I was looking for.

Two thousand years ago, Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a young donkey.  His triumphal entry into the city is the day we now mark as Palm Sunday. On that particular day, the Jews laid their cloaks on the ground and laid branches, taken from nearby trees, on the road to hail His arrival and to celebrate Him as a the one sent to save them. This account is told in all four gospels, and it’s told from a slightly different perspective in each:

Matthew 21:1-17;
Mark 11:1-11;
Luke 19:28-44;
and John 12:12-19.

They were expecting Him to be THE ONE who would cleanse the Temple, free them from Roman oppression and help them to regain their national strength and identity. They expected a military leader, but instead, got a humble servant riding into the city on a donkey. He had come to save them for all of eternity, but not necessarily to save them from the Romans. That wasn’t what they had been longing for. When they realized He wasn’t there to do as they had expected, they turned on Him. Days later He was brutally beaten and nailed to a cross to die a criminal’s death.

That wasn’t what His followers had expected.

He was crucified on a cross on a hill outside of Jerusalem. The grave couldn’t hold Him, and His resurrection a few days later brought new life.
That wasn’t what His followers expected, either.

Life isn’t easy. We often make it more difficult by adding expectations to our anticipations. These often go unmet, and we’re left with disappointment. When hopes don’t turn into what we’ve longed for, do we turn toward Him, or do we turn on Him? Do we surrender our expectations, longings and hopes just enough, while yet still trying to control the outcome we’re looking for?

His resurrection did bring us the opportunity for new life.
With that life, we can find hope when we turn toward Him.

We’re heading into the heart of the Holy Week right now. It’s more than egg hunts, bunnies, chicks, chocolate, new clothes, a big dinner and church attendance.
I hope you can find a tad more than you are expecting.

What are you expecting?
What are you hoping for?
Looking for?
Longing for?

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Monday’s Musings — Nakedness, Noises & New Clothes

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The trees still lay naked, clothed in their winter garb.

We just enjoyed an uncharacteristically warm spring weekend. It was one of those “get outside and do SOMETHING” kind of weekends where the sunshine, temperatures and blue skies beckoned and awakened the senses.

I spent quite a bit of time on the deck taking in the noises from the forest:  the birds chirping, the woodpeckers knocking their beaks against the trees, the turkeys calling, a few flies scurrying in the air. The sound that stood out the most, though, was that of the trees as they waved in the wind.

I can see far into the forest, yet all I see are grayed trunks. Our trees still lay naked, clothed in their winter garb. The only leaves they hold are a few of last year’s crinkled remnants of fall that refuse to give up their dangle. The noises that echo from the forest are the sounds of the branches rubbing, the trunks creaking as they rock to and fro in the spring’s winds, and the gentle rustle of the leaf-covered carpet beginning to dry out from its winter blanket.

The forest still looks dormant, yet I know it is waking. It, too, enjoyed the sunshine, temperatures and blue skies of the weekend, and it, too, beckons new life to emerge from within its depths.

We still have the possibility of snow in the forecast for one or two nights this week. Even so, a new season is upon us, and a rogue snowfall can’t stop the life waiting to spring forth.

This is the Holy Week. Yesterday’s Palm Sunday marked an entry into history, an entry into a city and the entry into lives that would be forever changed by the days to come. A new season was upon the people. Nothing could stop the death that would come and the life which would spring forth days later to conquer and to overcome. The time was upon them to clothe their nakedness and emptiness with a new garb … to shed the old and put on the new … a new garment as white as snow … a new life.

It’s not just history.
It’s each day.
It’s this week.
It’s right now.
It’s beckoning you … calling you.
A new season can be upon you.

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Will You Give Christmas Away This Year?

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Will you give Christmas away this year?

Immanuel — “God with us” — is not meant just to keep Him with us and in us. Yes, He came to dwell with us and among us, and His Spirit still does dwell within us. But the “with us” and the “in us” is not just for us.

He was meant to be shared.

In this wonderful season — this glorious time of the year — we have the choice in whether or not to share Him with others.

… not in a package, or a gift bag, or a present wrapped in a bow, but in the care, prayer and hope found in Immanuel.

… not in the tinsel, the wreaths, the stockings or the lights, but in the living ornaments of peace, strength, joy and hope we string through His purpose for us. These ornaments are the ones we keep out all year long, not the ones we pack away and put into a box until next year. These are the real gifts that, when received, are perfectly acceptable and highly encouraged to re-gift to others.

Give Christmas away this year.

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Where Can I Find Peace?

HeavenOffersPeaceEvery day

Heaven offers peace every day.

Every day.

Every single day.

It is there.

He is there.

He has it for you.

With compassion, He meets us at the point of our deepest need to bring us His hope and His peace.

In John 14:27, Jesus, himself, tells us: 

“Peace I leave with you;
my peace I give you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

We just have to receive it, grab on to it, and move forward in it to experience the richness and comfort He is waiting to provide.

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