Now from the sixth hour darkness fell upon all the land until the ninth hour. About the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” that is, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” And some of those who were standing there, when they heard it, began saying, “This man is calling for Elijah.” Immediately one of them ran, and taking a sponge, he filled it with sour wine and put it on a reed, and gave Him a drink. But the rest of themsaid, “Let us see whether Elijah will come to save Him.” And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice, and yielded up His spirit. And behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom; and the earth shook and the rocks were split (Matthew 27:45–51). |
I am not sure calling today "Good Friday" is a true reflection on the nature of that day. Calling it "Good" prejudices us to its injustice and the intensity of what was happening at that illegal and mock trial, and in the denials and mocking, and on that Roman tree of death.
Calling that day "Good" devotionalizes that day and desensitizes us to that moment in time. It is better, more appropriately, called "Dark Friday." We need it to be dark, for that Friday reveals all our rebellion and division and personal and collective sin; that Friday was the worst of all days; the darkest of all moments. Joy comes in the morning, but not on that Friday. The God of all creation, a creation in rebellion against Him, reveals how dark we have become on that day. We need that day to be Dark Friday. Nothing. Absolutely nothing else will do. Dark Friday saves us, our neighborhoods, our communities. The cruelness of that moment reveals how deeply sinful is our ways of rebellion and how devastating its results. Dark Friday shows us not only the condition of our hearts, but also the reality of what we can and do to our neighbors.
Calling this day "Good" makes us feel good about ourselves and sanitizes our view of the world around us. Today is Dark Friday to a billion on this planet and it is Dark Friday to way too many of our neighbors. This day should cause us to go into every dark corner of this world (of our neighborhoods and communities) and rescue those living in the dark. No matter the cost. This is what Dark Friday is.
Calling that day "Good" devotionalizes that day and desensitizes us to that moment in time. It is better, more appropriately, called "Dark Friday." We need it to be dark, for that Friday reveals all our rebellion and division and personal and collective sin; that Friday was the worst of all days; the darkest of all moments. Joy comes in the morning, but not on that Friday. The God of all creation, a creation in rebellion against Him, reveals how dark we have become on that day. We need that day to be Dark Friday. Nothing. Absolutely nothing else will do. Dark Friday saves us, our neighborhoods, our communities. The cruelness of that moment reveals how deeply sinful is our ways of rebellion and how devastating its results. Dark Friday shows us not only the condition of our hearts, but also the reality of what we can and do to our neighbors.
Calling this day "Good" makes us feel good about ourselves and sanitizes our view of the world around us. Today is Dark Friday to a billion on this planet and it is Dark Friday to way too many of our neighbors. This day should cause us to go into every dark corner of this world (of our neighborhoods and communities) and rescue those living in the dark. No matter the cost. This is what Dark Friday is.
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