Pondering Good Friday

 photo“What do u say when someone wishes u “Happy Good Friday”???!

This was Diana Butler Bass’s tweet early this Good Friday morning. It left me pondering the events of that first “good” Friday and how we have responded to it ever since.

I must admit that I tire of certain theological/philosophical responses I’ve experienced…

“Thank you Jesus, for dying for us!”
“God sent him to die.”
“He had to die for our sins.”

This all leaves me feeling cold and empty inside. Perhaps even hollowed out. As if someone has taken the big scoop, reserved for Halloween pumpkins and used it on me.

Even as a teenager, the words…

He was murdered
He was murdered
He was murdered

reverberated through my head.

So, on this Good Friday, I want to say, “Thank you, Jesus, for living for us. Thank you for giving it your all. For loving us so much, for finding us so worthy, even when we continue to be stubborn, ridiculous human beings with foibles and brains that are frequently slow to grasp the truth – even the truth of who you are. Thank you for finding us worthy enough to hang out with, to teach and teach and teach us, to walk with us, to live with us, to lead us. To lead us so far that it aroused the curiosity, the suspicions, the anxiety, and finally the hostility of the Roman Empire.

Thank you Jesus, for being who you were. Who you are. Thank you for continuing to inspire us with the astounding wisdom of your words and your life.

We don’t have answers for so many things. That eternal life thing. Or that virgin birth thing. Or even that empty tomb thing. Even as we prepare to celebrate Easter, that empty tomb perplexes us. Yet, we will celebrate. Because something happened and your loved ones noticed. And their world was changed so much that their lives continued on with unbelievable joy. And the world around them was changed.

So, thank you, Jesus. Thank you for your life. For Good Friday. And for everything that followed.

May we continue to be perplexed. May we continue to be inspired. Even as we see you tortured, beaten, and carrying your cross up a hill.

Blessed Good Friday,
Tamalyn

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