| Good Friday, eh? Surely Bleak Friday or Black Friday would be a better description. By the end of this particular week in Jesus' life, things are bleak to say the least: by three o'clock late afternoon, the whole land will be dark; God will be nowhere to be found; and an innocent man's head will flop inches from a splintered crossbeam. Does humanity get any darker than Jerusalem, Passover week, 2000 years ago? Moments ago, a carpenter has forced out the bloodied words, 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?' For a man so in-tune with God for 33 years of His life, why does His last breath seem to suggest God is nowhere to be found? The light of the world has finally been snuffed out. The last chapter of Jesus' life seems to have soaked up as much human misery as possible: betrayal, injustice, violence, hatred, death and the absence of God. It's as if the cross is a magnet for everything that is wrong with the world. It's as if Jesus' final act is to soak up every last dreg of human pain and bitterness and draw it into Himself like a sponge. And as somebody turns the lights out across the land for three hours after noon, it's as if the last of the world's darkness will be left there. There's only light from now on. Only goodness. It's as if Black Friday should be really called Good Friday. |
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