'good' Friday

Have you ever thought about how bad Good Friday was for Jesus?

He was deserted. Have you ever noticed that the stem of that word is "desert"? It feels like one. Vast, empty spaces, barren of life, except for a few small forms that daily bury themselves in the unrelenting sand. No water. No hope-only fading mirages in the far reaches of the desolate expanse.

That's how He must have felt.

Surrounded not by those who had followed Him now for three or so years, but by a bitter, scornful, greedy crowd. He could see the bloodlust in their eyes. They scorned their creator! The pots derided the potter: You are worthless! You have not made me!

'Blasphemy! What further need have we of witnesses? He has condemned Himself!' They said - when He spoke the truth!
This was the result
Of the people He had set in place to herald His coming
Of the long line of priests who foreshadowed His work
Of the Law and Prophets pointing to His advent
Yet
Blasphemy! -This was their judgment of His appearance.

Crucify! they cried

But Pilate could not find any charge against Him. The one understanding man-
The one who saw something of who He was-
Pilate tried to save Him
but he could not.
No one could save Jesus.
Jesus planned it that way.
Yet He was hurt, disappointed, and alone.

Crucify!

One more time Pilate tried to pacify the angry mob. Would they have Christ, or Barabbas?

A little perspective...
Barabbas was a "notorious criminal" (Matthew)
A "murderer" and "insurrectionist", one who stirred up the worst in people (Mark)
Luke notes that this one was "the one they asked for"
Not their God, who loved them and offered them life
But Barabbas, who hated and offered them death.

Crucify!

Pilate could not ignore the crowd. He washed his hands of Christ and told them: 'the guilt of His death be upon you!' And they replied- the horrific cry--

His blood be on us and our children!

Their God! The blood of their God on them! And what a legacy to bequeath to their children! The death of their God on their hands!

Forsaken
They had all left Him
By their actions and by their words they denied Him again and again
He who had served them for years
He who they had learned to love, because He loved them
Whose miracles they had seen
Whose gifts they had received
Whose love they had felt
Whose message they had learned, yet not understood-how blind they were! How blind are we!
He they forsook in His hour of greatest need

And we have hardly begun...

They whipped Him
They insulted Him
They beat Him
They crucified Him-
They subjected Him to the worst form of torture known to man!
Nails ripping through unguarded flesh
Death long in coming as the crucified writhe before a jeering crowd
God had spoken it long before: "Cursed is anyone who hangs on a tree"

And, dying there on the cross, He bore our sins.

Every sin:
Haughtiness
Lies
Murder
Wickedness
Love of evil
Discord
Hostility
Sensuality
Impurity
Lust
Idolatry
Dishonor of parents and authorities
Adultery
Theft
Forgetting the Sabbath
Anger
Bitterness
Malice
Greed
Sexual immorality
Obscenity
Godlessness
Glorifying self
Forgetting to give thanks
Exchanging God's glory for mere imitations
Exchanging God's truth for a lie
Depravity
Envy
Strife
Deceit
Gossip
Slander
God-hating
Insolence
Arrogance
Betrayal
Senselessness
Unfaithfulness
Heartlessness
Ruthlessness
Unkindness
On Him! He who had 'known no sin'
He who had never sinned bore our infinite guilt
"He was wounded for our transgressions
He was crushed for our iniquities

He bore our griefs
And carried our sorrows..."
He bore not only sin, but also its effects-
Hurt
Pain
Sickness
Disease
Broken homes, marriages, friendships
Decay
Hell
Punishment
Guilt
Despair
Hunger
Loss
Barrenness
Brokenness
Illness
Torment
Sorrow
Grief
Longing
Hopelessness
Death!

It is finished! He cried, then drew His final breath.
The earth quaked (mourning for its Maker?)
The rocks split
The veil of the Temple ripped in two
Many were raised to life and entered Jerusalem
The centurion cried, "Truly this man was the son of God!"
A soldier speared His side; blood and water emerged.
Jesus was dead.
The Roman soldiers were experts in death. They knew He was gone.

"How shall we comfort ourselves, murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there to clean ourselves? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us?
How did we do this? What were we doing when we unchained this earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving? Are we not plunging continually? Is there still any up or down? God is dead. God remains dead. And we have all killed Him." (Nietzche)