We call it Good Friday, and it is. We know what that means. We know the salvation it brings to have our sins paid for on the cross. We know the new life we have in his resurrection. But I wondered if we ever truly contemplated what was happening in the hearts and minds of his followers (at least the ones that were left) in those hours that he was taken and crucified? This is my attempt to sort through that. It’s simply a poem to consider what was happening, and without the benefit of history, how we might have seen it through the eyes that believed and followed him. My prayer is that this poem might make you think a little more deeply about that Friday, and even that Saturday (see tomorrow for that thought.) and hopefully by thinking on these things, make that resurrection Sunday that much sweeter!
If you truly like it, could you be kind enough to share it on all your social media sites so others might have an opportunity to ponder what a Good Friday it really is.
Today’s the day he was betrayed by a friend,
as a simple kiss led to an arrest.
Today’s the day he was accused of sin,
though there were none to accuse of him.
Today’s the day his silence spoke loudly,
as he continued to fill yet one more prophecy.
Today’s the day they choose a criminal to free,
blinded by the inciters to forget who Jesus might be.
Today’s the day he was mocked and jeered,
as they ripped at his skin and pulled out his beard.
Lord help us, but today’s the day, he walked a long hard road,
carrying a burden for the entire world.
Today’s the day he fell on the way,
forcing someone to help him where he lay.
Today’s the day he was nailed to a tree,
spikes in his wrists and feet for all to see.
Today’s the day through gasps of air,
he’d ask for forgiveness for the accusers that were there.
Today’s the day he hung naked and in shame,
as he cried out, “it is finished”, while in excruciating pain.
Today’s the day they saw the God-man die,
NOT knowing in three days he’d be found alive.
They laid him in a tomb, body covered with wounds.
Having no idea what it meant.
Maybe now believing he wasn’t heaven-sent.
So reflect on this day that Christ had died,
not from the perspective of Christian eyes.
We cry because we know our Savior died,
but with tears tainted with joy, because we know he’s alive.
Think how it might have mattered,
as we might view every past hope now shattered.
We lay a lifeless body in a grave,
the stone NEVER to be rolled away.
We have the perspective of history,
to tell us there’s more to this story.
But even with skies darkened, and veil torn,
the dead rising up like never before,
they knew now who he was, AND that he was gone.
The feelings that arose, the desolation they felt,
hopelessness had to be a part it as well.
Deep dark thoughts of pain,
thinking that maybe they followed him in vain.
How much greater would it be,
when the Savior’s found alive for all to see.
I bet our own emotions couldn’t compare,
with the real experience of seeing him die, then finding him alive standing there.
So I ask one more time to think like them,
this was a DARK Friday for his friends.
Their salvation died with him,
they didn’t know resurrection was coming.
So I ask, One. Last. Time.
How would you feel?