Good Friday is good.
I love that we spend a day considering the death of Jesus. I love the sombre mood of church. The darkness. The quiet.
The King is dead. Our Lord crucified. Naked, alone, suffering the wrath of man and God. It's hard to know how to feel on Good Friday.
Sad. Contemplative. Thankful.
So often we jump straight to the resurrection from the crucifixion. But at Easter we have time take it slowly, to let the reality sink in.
Now, at this time on the Friday, darkness had fallen on the land. Jesus was in the grave. Hope crushed. The creator's lifeless body, on a cold rock shelf, in a darkened tomb.
Tomorrow our Lord does not stir. Decay begins. The dawn was coming, but who really knew?
He was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
Therefore I will give him a portion among the great,
and he will divide the spoils with the strong,
because he poured out his life unto death,
and was numbered with the transgressors.
For he bore the sin of many,
and made intercession for the transgressors. - Isaiah 53:5,12
He has done it. - Psalm 22:31c
Photo by: jurek d.
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