Good Friday

Greater Love Hath No Man Than This 

It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, while the sun's light failed. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice said, "Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit!" And having said this he breathed his last. Now when the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God, saying, "Certainly this man was innocent!" And all the crowds that had assembled for this spectacle, when they saw what had taken place, returned home beating their breasts. And all His acquaintances and the women who had followed him from Galilee stood at a distance watching these things.

-Luke 23:44 - 49

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All over this world tonight, people are gathering to remember. No one who has been touched by it could ever forget. They will walk, drive, bicycle, or find public transportation, to be together and remember. 

Our daughter tells us today that her children want to talk about it. Want to hear, to share, to listen all about it. Easter. It is all so fascinating. They have recognized it isn't about chocolate or eggs or bunnies. They know it is about something so much more astonishing than bunnies. They sense a gravity about it, today; but this will change, gloriously, come Sunday. 

Their mother called today 'Good Friday'. "But that's terrible!" said the 6 year old. "It should be called 'Terrible Friday!'" And I certainly see his point. But we call it Good because of the wonderful thing done on that one terrible day. Provision for the sins of the world. 

(Sins? you ask. Yes, and if ever we don't think we have any, we must just wait five minutes. Or ask our husband..)

And so, we remember. I shall think of the words within the four gospels; descriptions of what took place this 'terrible' Friday. And of the song below, aptly written and shared by someone who was touched by all of this, and will never forget.

See you along the Way.

How deep the Father's love for us, how vast beyond all measure

That He should give His only Son, to make a wretch His treasure.

How great the pain of searing loss, the Father turns His face away,

As wounds which mar the Chosen One bring many sons to glory.

Behold, the Man upon the cross, my sin upon His shoulders

Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice call out among the scoffers.

It was my sin that held Him there, until it was accomplished.

His dying breath has brought me Life, I know that 'it is finished'.

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I will not boast in anything, no gifts, no power no wisdom,

But I will boast in Jesus Christ, His death and resurrection.

Why should I gain from His reward? I do not have an answer.

But this I know with all my heart: His wounds have paid my Ransom.

©1995 Kingsway's Thankyou Music 

Words and Music by Stuart Townend 

photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kodamakitty/1089185570/">Kodamakitty</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/">cc</a>

photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/felpa_boy/3382317086/">Felpa_Boy</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/">cc</a>