Sometimes Good Fridays happen on Regular Tuesdays.
And what a terrible name for such a horrific day.
Theologically, it seems nice; I can understand the logic of it, anyway.
I mean, we benefit from the death and subsequent resurrection of Jesus, and so in that sense Good Friday is…good.
But it’s only good because the resurrection happened.
Have you ever noticed how Jesus didn’t mention the resurrection when he was hanging on wooden beams with spikes through his wrists and feet, completely abandoned by his closest friends, and seemingly abandoned by his own father?
“Hey, I’m back in three days, so it’s cool, guys.” — Jesus, never.
I’m not completely certain Jesus knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that the father would bring him through the crucifixion.
I think he believed the father would, but belief and certainty are not the same things.
Belief leaves room for doubt, and I think that’s why he asked the father to find a “Plan B”.
Yet, he trusted his father.
And his father went silent.
Maybe you know how that feels.
Maybe that’s where you are right now.
If you are, I’ll spare you the Christian platitudes about resurrection.
Because, frankly, when you’re literally being hung out to dry, maybe you just need to be given the space to wonder if the father really is there without having your faith ridiculed.
If that’s you, I honor you for being honest.
I’ve been there too.