Why do we call Good Friday good?

Palm Sunday is exciting – if even for just a moment, God’s people got it: Jesus is King of kings and Lord of lords!  Easter is thrilling – because the grave could not contain Jesus, we know that we too will experience his victory over death!  Sandwiched between these days of celebration is a Friday affixed to a seemingly misappropriated adjective, good.  “Black” Friday would fit well (Matt 27:45).  But, “Black Friday” is the name reserved for the day after Thanksgiving, a day that should be good.  “Good Friday” is the title we reserve for that day in history when the only righteous man who ever lived died for crimes he never committed.  Why do we call that day “good?”

As Christians we know the answer.  We call it good because the crimes (sins) that required Jesus’ death belonged to you and me.  I say “belonged” rather than “belong” because, in Christ, they are no longer ours.  “[A]s far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:12).  In this beautiful psalm, David is believing what God would do one day in Christ, “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21).  Like a scarlet letter or a spot of cancer our sin was removed, with all due fear and shame attached to it, to be remembered no longer.  On the Cross, Jesus Christ absorbed all the wrath due me (Romans 3:25), He purchased (ransomed) you from the slave market of sin (1 Corinthians 6:19-20), He nullified the just and guilty verdict against sinners (Romans 3:26), and He reconciled us into true familial community with God (Romans 8:14-17)!  This was indeed a good day!

Let us not forget that God’s motive behind all of this was his unfathomable love for us.  The geography of Psalm 103:12 would be true because of the dimensions of the previous verse, “For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him” (Psalm 103:11).  We call Good Friday “good” because we see the full outpouring of God’s love for needy sinners.  We call Good Friday “good” because on that day the Father, for a moment, turned his back on his Son, so that for eternity he could turn his face toward us.

Everything changed on Good Friday, and what happened that day continues to change everything for those who find themselves here: “But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God” (John 1:12).  Do you believe?  Have you received what God offers?  Are you his child?  Good Friday beckons all who will hear the gracious invitation.

If you were in his sandals...

If you were Luke, who would you interview, and why?  Imagine what it would have been like to read the original manuscripts and speak to the eye-witnesses.  Imagine what it would be like to not read Mary's "Magnificat," but hear the passion as she recites it to you with a quiver in her aged voice.  Imagine hearing Thomas' version of the occasion when Jesus showed the disciples his nail scars.  Imagine stooping down to look Zacchaeus in the eye as the wee little man tells about his tree climbing days.  Men formerly blind, formerly demon possessed; women formerly prostitutes, formerly a step lower on the social ladder now members of the Church...  cool, huh?

Did Luke interview these people?  We have no idea.  We know from chapter 1 verse 2 that he interviewed some of the eye-witnesses to Jesus' ministry, so, why not?  If you were in his sandals, who would you interview, and why?

Warrior Shepherd

Today my morning prayers focused on a variety of people.  Some sick, some hurting, some mourning loss.  Others facing big decisions, some making poor decisions, some just confused, whose confusion spilled over into my prayers.  I wrestled with how to pray, which in turn naturally called into question my proficiency as shepherd of this flock.  My thoughts then went to my co-laborers on the elder board - how should we, Grace Fellowship's shepherds, pastor these people in our care?  Sometimes the hows, whos, and whys get a little messy.

God graciously allowed my mind to wonder to a passage I read the other day.  Micah 5:1-5 tells us about the One who would come from Bethlehem, the shepherd who will "stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the LORD, in the majesty of the name of the LORD his God."  I usually picture ancient shepherds more like Little Boy Blue than a fierce warrior standing in the strength of Yahweh, reflecting His majesty.  But that is our Shepherd.  A Warrior Shepherd.  I'm just a hireling, an under-shepherd.  I don't need all the answers.  Our elders aren't expected to be Christ.  Our leadership falls short of the glory of God.  Our calling is to faithfully point Christ's flock to their true Shepherd.  He alone can lead us to the green pastures our souls crave.

To those of the flock who read this, I urge you to look to Him.  I pray that you find us, your fellow sheep, simply pointing Christ-ward.  To the under-shepherds who read this I encourage you to look to the Shepherd for your source of motivation in the task entrusted to us.  And, never forget, that not unlike one of Israel's shepherds, King David, the Lord is our Shepherd too.  We lack nothing.  There are green pastures and still waters to be found for all of us, overflowing, and free, and only in the person of Jesus Christ.

The Human Side

John 2:1-5

While reading John, like the other Gospels, it is sometimes helpful to read it from the vantage point of the present (the time of the book’s writing) looking back. For example, John 1:11-13 leaps off the page when we consider what happens in Acts. The Gospel, scorned by the Jews, breaks free from national Israel and spreads like fire through the world of the Gentiles.

“He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.” Yes, we figured that out when they killed Him. “But to all who did receive him… were born… not of the will of man, but of God.” Ah, that explains what happened on Pentecost. God is doing this!

This story, however, I want to understand from the past. Only I can’t. What was Jesus like prior to age 30? We know about his miraculous conception. We’ve studied Mary’s “magnificat.” We know that while some said “wow” and walked away, Mary “treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Lk 2:19). We are familiar with the story of Jesus the boy genius who confounded the Rabbis and terrified His parents by hiding out in the Temple. We know that after this Jesus “increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man” (Lk 2:52) and that after this chapter Joseph is conspicuously absent from the biblical narrative. What is so mysterious to me is that after the second chapter of Luke, 18 years pass before chapter 3. What was Jesus like?

John’s Gospel opens with Jesus as the Word who was God in eternity past and then thrusts Him into the earthly scene on the heels of John the Baptist. Other than calling a small band of disciples the first thing we see of this 30 year old mysterious Deity-in-flesh is Him prematurely (in His own words) revealing His God-ness in obedience to the wishes of His mother. “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with His mom and the Word did what she told Him to do.”

I am not trying to be irreverent; I am merely trying to point out that there are some very human dynamics going on here. Mary knew that Jesus was far more than simply a man. From his conception she knew that Jesus was of God. At least by age 12 she knew that He had a special mission from His Heavenly Father. At His crucifixion it is clear that they were very close, and even into Acts we see her allegiance to her son/Savior (1:4). But, the first thing John tells us of her is that she was very comfortable playing the roll of His mother.

I can’t help but think of my relationship with my own mother, and how the Jesus/Mary relationship must have been very similar, and how it must have been very different. Several years ago when I told my mom I was considering becoming a military chaplain she said, “But those are rough people. Do you really want to be around people that rough?” What she really meant was (I think) “But you are my baby boy. I can’t imagine you hanging around with those roughnecks!” The beautiful irony of the situation was that she was on her way to Nicaragua, land of riots and kidnappings, following the journey Jesus laid out for her. What was it like for Mary when she saw the kind of company her perfect baby boy kept? Tax collectors. Lame. Prostitutes. Leprous. “But those are rough people…” And yet, unknowingly at the time, her journey would take her to the foot of her son’s cross – literally. What a roller coaster of emotions life must be for a mom.

Moms have an amazing knack for giving unsolicited advice to their sons in very inventive ways. One year while I was in Seminary, working full time, and trying to figure out how to be a dad to our first born, I got a very strange birthday present from my parents. A kite. Rebekah and I looked at each other and shrugged, and then it hit me. “I think my mom is telling me to relax,” I said. I was right, and so was she. It worked.

But surely Mary never needed to give Jesus any advice. Or is that what she is doing here? “Jesus, they have no wine (wink/nudge).” I’m not saying that Jesus needed the push. I’m just saying that maybe His mom thought He did. Several years have passed since my mom tried to talk me out of joining the military. She’s nothing but supportive now, and has been since before I made the final decision. Since then I’ve gotten her a tour of the B2 Stealth Bomber, which she loved. She saw me in my service dress for the first time recently and unable to come up with a more fitting adjective said I was “gorgeous.” I guess there was no other word capable of carrying the weight of motherly pride that was gushing out in tears and a huge smile. She’s in my corner, encouraging me, knowing that I can succeed far beyond what I am convinced is my own potential. But isn’t that what mom’s do, once they get over the initial shock of us growing up? How many men have gotten that motherly push to move out, get a job, ask the girl out… “They have no wine (wink/nudge).”

The point of all of this is that whatever conversations took place between Mary and Jesus between Luke 2 and John 2, they must have been very human. Jesus, born of a virgin, confounding the wise as a pre-teen, then shocking the human race by revealing His deity to save the face of an unnamed wedding host, was human. He had a mom just like you. They loved each other just like my mom and I do. And, just like I, at age 30, still listen to my Mom we may never have been able to tell the story of 30-year-old Jesus turning water into wine were it not for his mom saying, “Jesus, they have no wine (wink/nudge).”