Good Friday

How Can We Call This Day “Good”?

John 18 & 19

Christ's life is full of meaningful moments. But surely none is as profound as the events we have been enacting this week, the events of the last days of his earthly life. Here is both tragedy and glory.

It is far easier for us to see the tragedy than to understand the glory. How can we see it as anything but a terrible waste of human life? What kind of a God could allow such a terrible thing to happen to a beloved child? How can we, knowing the depths to which humanity fell, have the audacity to call this Friday "Good"?

The story of the crucifixion is an astounding story of hatred and hostility. It brings up so many questions in us. How could one of his closest companions, one who had travelled with him, the one entrusted with the common purse, deliberately agree with his enemies to assist them in capturing him? Why should the leaders of the synagogue turn on one of their own, a young rabbi, with such animosity? His unorthodox ways are simply not enough to explain it. Why should the guards turn with such vehemence against their prisoner, bullying him in such a vicious manner? How could Pilate, a servant of Rome, go against his inner convictions and impose the death penalty on one he knows to be a good person? Why should the crowd, who only days before had cheered Jesus on with shouts of "Hosanna", just as easily shout, "Crucify"? It doesn't make sense.

The day was a Friday. But it was quite unlike any other day. For on what other day have people gone so far astray? Were they evil, that great crowd of people? Who was in that crowd? There were the unemployed, the disenfranchised of Jerusalem. One can understand how they might take out their frustrations on another. What about the shopkeepers, artisans, business people and housewives in that crowd? People just like you and me. What about the religious people, people with character? Yet none of that saved them from becoming a part of that unthinking mob.

That mob mentality is part of the tragedy of being human. The events of that day are disasters renewed daily in our world. Amnesty International reminds us that, even while we are worshipping here in Newcastle or Orono, some man or woman in a police station somewhere in the world is being battered or tortured for no particular reason except that he or she is at the mercy of another human being. Terrible atrocities take place every day. Many of them take place in the name of God.

Bullying has become a travesty in our school system. Children mock other children to the point where they commit suicide. It is a sad commentary on our society.

There once was a town called Harmony. To be true the town did not live up to its name. For it was a hotbed of bigotry, prejudice and discrimination. The King had long watched what was happening in the town. He knew that he had to take action. So he sent his son to look into the problem.

The Prince went in disguise. That way he could go about freely. There were no barriers. He made himself a part of every group in the community. He found his way into every ghetto. Rich and poor alike were attracted to him. They sensed his acceptance and love. In return they would have done anything for him.

One day he invited all his friends to a picnic. The whole town turned out. He went from group to group encouraging them to talk with one another, to share the food and drink they had brought, and to have their children play games and run races together. Suddenly the mood turned ugly. The rich looked at the poor and began to mutter. "What kind of company does this man keep?" The poor couldn't help but notice the snobbery of the rich. The blacks looked at the whites saying, "What are they doing here? Who invited them anyway?" The Prince continued to encourage them to find their common interests and to share with one another. The more he tried to convince them the more angry they became until finally their anger turned against him. They rose as a mob. Their shouts and screams of hatred filled the air.

The Prince, battered and bruised, beat a hasty retreat. Just as he left town a huge clap of thunder was heard. The sky turned as black as night. It began to pour with rain. Now the only shelter in the picnic area was an abandoned temple. The crowd hurried inside and stood there huddled together like a flock of sheep. They were petrified at the fury of the storm. They knew that they had done a terrible thing. "Was God punishing them?" They wondered.

In their panic they forgot about their differences. The walls of the temple bound them together, as members of a large family. The barriers fell down. They began to comfort one another attempting to allay each other's fears. They reflected on all that had taken place. They understood what the Prince had accomplished for them. When they discovered his true identity, they were overwhelmed. Love for him overflowed. They longed to make amends to him for their hateful actions. Realizing how impossible that was, they made amends to one another. "That", they knew, "was what the Prince had been sent to do." From that day on Harmony began to live up to its name.

Jesus was not a prisoner dragged to his execution. He was a king offering himself for his kingdom. That is the ultimate love of God. It is not something we can know in any intellectual way. We must experience it. We must know it in the way we know God's presence with us. We must understand why he came and why he suffered and died, for only then can we call this Friday, "Good".