Our Good Friday didn’t begin today. Good Friday for us began weeks ago, as the coronavirus tightened its grip on our nation and our communities. Good Friday began as we felt slammed by a tidal wave of cases and then deaths—our daily morning rituals became accompanied by grim news reports as we braced ourselves for the “steep” part of the curve. Good Friday began when we started to feel more acutely the suffering, uncertainty, grief, fear and isolation that spread as quickly as the virus itself. Today is Good Friday, but we’ve been stuck here for a while.
We’ve been stuck here for a while, but the story that takes place tonight on Calvary, the story of the crucified Christ provides us with an exit strategy. The crucified Christ provides us with an alternate story to the suffering, grief and fear that has become an all-too-familiar part of our days.
One of the things that makes what we’re going through right now so difficult is the fact that there is so much that is out of our control. There is so much unknown. Tonight we heard the story of Jesus’ passion from the gospel of John. One of the things that makes John’s passion account unique is that from start to finish, Jesus is in control. When an army comes to arrest him, he causes them to fall to the ground and negotiates the safety of his companions. He interviews Pilate as much as Pilate interview him. He is unfazed as he is ridiculed by the soldiers, paraded in front of the crowds and crucified. He even gives direction from the cross as he declares a new family structure for his mother and best friend. And he announces the end, the fulfillment of what he had been sent to do, mission accomplished.
When things feel like they are out of our control, God reminds us that the crucified and soon risen Christ is in control. The story that takes place on Calvary reminds us not only of who is in control but of who walks with us through our Good Fridays. I have certainly had trials and tribulations in my life and I know each one of you have, too. When I go through those difficult times, I need to know that God has been there. I need to know that God knows what it is to feel pain, to feel suffering. I need to know that God knows what it is to weep. I need to know that God knows what it is to be anxious and stressed. This is why Good Friday is important to me. Because in Jesus’ life—and especially the last few days—his death and his resurrection, we are assured that God knows these things, that God knows our trials and God walks with us through them.
Although this day is shrouded in a dark pall of death, we know that Christ’s death offers life to all the world. The tree around which we gather this evening is indeed a tree of life. We leave the foot of the cross knowing that there has been a victory, that all of the world’s brokenness is put to death with Christ. The cross is where our redemption begins.
From here, we make our way to the promised joy of new and abundant life declared by an open tomb. When we feel stuck in Good Friday, the crucified and resurrected Christ calls us out of our tombs. When we feel stuck in Good Friday, God reminds us of what always waits for us in the morning: an empty cross, an empty tomb, a new day full of life.