When they came to the place
called the Skull, they crucified him there, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. Jesus
said, “Father, forgive them,
for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his
clothes by casting lots.
Luke 23:33-34 (NIV)
No one
is clear on the origins of
the phrase “Good Friday,” but I can appreciate the paradox. God became man,
took upon Himself the sins of the world, knowing that our redemption could only
be assured by blood sacrifice. As Paul wrote in his letter to Ephesus,
In Him we have redemption through
His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s
grace…Ephesians 1:7 (NIV)
I have
my own Good Friday paradox. My memory for some facts and events, at least among
my family and friends, is legendary. I do not remember the date of my
grandfather’s passing, after a long brave battle with a thoracic aortic
aneurysm, except to say that is was on the morning of Good Friday. As I prepare
for the celebration of the Resurrection each year, my joy in tempered by
personal sadness. I celebrate God’s victory over the grave while suffering the
personal and lingering pain of profound loss. It was the only Easter I did not
commemorate in corporate worship, remaining at home instead, steeling myself to
walk into the very sanctuary in which we should have worshipped, instead
preparing to say a final goodbye.
This
year Good Friday falls on what would have been my dad’s 80th birthday. Birthdays are good, but as
time passes, I mark yet another year without the sound of his voice, the warmth
of his embrace, questions he’ll ever answer, conversations we’ll never share.
Though I prepare for great joy to come on Sunday, the paradox of Good Friday is
clear to me.
My
personal joy comes in the blessed assurance that my sorrowful goodbyes are not
the end of the story, and I would not have that assurance without the Passion
of the Cross. My personal Good Friday paradox is a study in Grace. My personal
Good Friday paradox is a lesson in faith. If I believe, then even through my
tears, I do not weep like those who have no hope.
"Dear
Lord, I come before You humbled by the sacrifice You made for me by giving up
Your one and only Son so that I could have a relationship with You." Lord,
thank you for Redemption. Thank You for Grace. Thank You that though I miss my
father and grandfather, I appreciate the sacrifice, as it takes me back to Your
great gift. Like You with Your Only Begotten Son, I have not said the last
goodbye. In You, through You, I can say through my tears...
Dad, Papa-‘tll we meet again, Happy
Easter.
