Abandoned. Left alone, the world upon His shoulders. Heaven’s face turned away, unable to bear such love in the rawest form. Where were the ones who laid palm fronds down just a week ago? Worse still, where were the ones who cried out for this, sought to bring Him to death? Could they not face that which they had done? Women, his mother, helpless before Him. The soldiers, apathetic, casting lots for His clothes, waiting to take His lifeless body down and go about their duties.
How could they not see? His body broken for the world, the last and ultimate sacrifice. A love incomparable, unchallengeable, never to be outdone.
This is more holy than Easter. Easter is the conquering of death, the new life and celebration and triumph. The overcoming. But it doesn’t come before the sacrifice, before the pain.
Pain in the night, joy in the morning.
Holy in the pain because we were spared of it, broken free of the chains of sin and death by the death of the Son of God.
When Jesus breathed His last on the cross, the dead were made alive. The veil was torn.
The Holy was released.
The Presence of God permeated all of creation once more. Like the Garden, all was free from man’s curse because the sacrifice was given. That moment, when we were given access- freely and wholly- to God, the world was set right, just for a moment.
Did the Pharisees fall face down when the veil was torn and the Presence of God burst forth? Did people’s hearts flutter rapid, sensing the nearness of His Spirit? Were they numb? Was the Presence powerful, whirling like wind in sadness of His Son and joy in the salvation now free for all?
This is where the triumph started. “It is finished.” God’s plan of redemption complete, ours for the taking in faith. There is nothing left- it is finished- for us to do but be humble in the moment.
Can we ever comprehend the act of the cross? Can we ever speak above a hushed and reverent tone when imagining what took place, what He endured, for one and for all? That I am that one? That you are that one?
This is the holy act we remember today. This is the beginning of redemption, what history was weaving toward, the plan of salvation in Christ. A beautiful picture culminating into a rugged and ragged cross. Ugly made blessed. Red blood for snow white souls.
Holiest moment. Such love, such sacrifice.
This is why it is called Good Friday- all things work together for our good- the goodness of God and Jesus to save that which in the beginning He saw was good.
He never lost hope in us. And He showed we can never lose hope in Him.
It is finished. We are His. Not because of us, but because of Jesus and this day, this Good day where we can enter His Presence and give thanks. Because really what else is there left to say?