As I am writing this, the clock reads 12:07am...which means its officially Good Friday. I'll never forget my senior year at PBA I took a course titled "The Life and Ministry of Jesus" yes believe it or not they some how were able to take the most powerful, influential 33 1/2 years of life and jam them into a semester. It was a great course, believe it or not a course I struggled with, the work load was incredible and my professor was tough...but it is still to this day one of the best courses I have ever taken. From the very beginning you could tell everyone was anxious to get to the final week of Jesus' life, and it just so happened to fall the week before Holy Week that year, it did however take us almost 2 1/2 weeks to complete the section, it was during that class for the first time I heard the phrase, "Friday is Good because of Sunday." It was something I thought about constantly that week, I found myself in awe of that statement, it was powerful, full or truth, life changing...but almost instantly I found myself almost rushing through Friday to get to Sunday. Maybe its because I am part of the "instant gratification" generation...so why not rush to the "good part", I was in fact the kid who when reading the "Choose Your Own Adventure Books" would pick one and if it didn't end right go back and try the other way just to get to the "good ending", feels good to repent of that! Now moving on...just a few days ago one of my softball players asked me the question many ask, why is it called "Good Friday" and I gave the church regurgitated answer of..."because of what happened on Sunday" and yes while that is true...I found myself again fumbling over the fact that I had somehow simplified Good Friday to that answer. Why do I do that? I guess some would think I'm just being critical of myself...but all this week I have been anticipating Friday because I feel like for the first time in a long time...I am tuned in, paying attention, remembering that Good Friday is a day that should not just be rushed through to get to Sunday.
And with that I will stop rambling and leave you with a passage from a Puritan Devotional I love called:
The Valley of the Vision
My Father,
Enlarge my heart, warm my affections,
open my lips,
supply words that proclaim ‘Love lustres
at Calvary.’
There grace removes my burdens and heaps them
on thy Son,
made a transgressor, a curse, and sin for me;
There the sword of thy justice smote the man,
thy fellow;
There thy infinite attributes were magnified,
and infinite atonement was made;
There infinite punishment was due,
and infinite punishment was endured.
Christ was all anguish that I might be all joy,
cast off that I might be brought in,
trodden down as an enemy
that I might be welcomed as a friend,
surrendered to hell’s worst
that I might attain heaven’s best,
stripped that I might be clothed,
wounded that I might be healed,
athirst that I might drink,
tormented that I might be comforted,
made a shame that I might inherit glory,
entered darkness that I might have eternal light.
My Saviour wept that all tears might be wiped
from my eyes,
groaned that I might have endless song,
endured all pain that I might have unfading health,
bore a thorny crown that I might have
a glory-diadem,
bowed his head that I might uplift mine,
experienced reproach that I might receive
welcome,
closed his eyes in death that I might gaze
on unclouded brightness,
expired that I might for ever live.
O Father, who spared not thine only Son that thou
mightest spare me,
All this transfer thy love designed and
accomplished;
Help me to adore thee by lips and life.
O that my every breath might be ecstatic praise,
my every step buoyant with delight, as I see my
enemies crushed,
Satan baffled, defeated, destroyed,
sin buried in the ocean of reconciling blood,
hell’s gates closed, heaven’s portal open.
Go forth, O conquering God, and show me
the cross, mighty to subdue, comfort and save.
