This year my birthday falls on Good Friday. That reality has found me reflecting on the that fact while I’m contemplating my birth seventy-three years ago, Christians around the world are contemplating the death of Christ.
As a follower of Christ, I am also aware that what makes Good Friday good is at the core of what Christians believe. The one I worship was willing to die an undeserved death. And because he was, it makes possible the eternal life he promised when my day for dying eventually comes. In death, there’s life. That spiritual transaction rooted in what took place on that old rugged cross is what many call being “born again.” And so, on a day my family celebrates my physical birth, I am celebrating what made my spiritual rebirth possible.
But here’s the kicker. Our knowledge of what makes Good Friday good was not apparent when the events of that weekend took place. Clearly, what we refer to as Good Friday was not a good day for the One whose death defined it. It was day dominated by a tragic miscarriage of justice. It was a tragic day overshadowed by the torture of an innocent man eventually executed by Roman crucifixion (the most barbarous form of capital punishment of the day).
Jesus’ friends fled in fear hiding from the authorities. Grief-struck women wandered aimlessly without direction. Countless followers of the carpenter-turned-rabbi who had pinned their hopes on this charismatic prophet were devastated. As the result of his death, his teachings, that had fueled thoughts of a messianic kingdom, were called into question.
The body of the popular prophet was wrapped in a linen shroud and buried in a borrowed grave. The cave and the corpse were sealed. The Jewish Sabbath that ushered in that year’s Passover began against the backdrop of unexpected sorrow and undeserved death. As the sun set on Saturday and that sacred Sabbath ended, the long shadows of sadness draped the hearts of Christ’s disciples. There was no reason to suspect anything would alter what appeared to be the new norm.
And then came Sunday. Women brought spices to neutralize the stench of death. But the fragrances they bore were not needed. The grave was open. But no odor needed to be covered. Life had replaced death. Grave clothes were left on the stone slab where the corpse had been positioned. The unexpected sorrow of Friday was now replaced by unexpected celebrations of Sunday.
It wasn’t until the events of Sunday played out that Friday was cast in a positive light. Friday could now be seen as good. Christ’s death was not in vain. With his resurrection there was a validation of his sacrifice two days before.
A few years ago a phrase came to my mind as I contemplated the mystery of the Easter message. The empty tomb is the womb of faith where faith is born anew. I liked the play on words between tomb and womb. Grave and birth. Death and life. In other words, Christ’s resurrection is what grounds our belief system. Easter is the tap root of the Christian faith. To quote the Apostle Paul, if Christ has not been resurrected our faith in his words and the meaning of his death are worthless.
But thanks be to God, Christ is risen. He is risen, indeed! Hope is born anew!
In addition to each week’s post on this website, Greg Asimakoupoulos offers daily video devotionals on his YouTube channel. Here is a sample video. If you are interested in receiving these devotionals Monday through Friday, you can subscribe on Greg’s channel.
My Rhymes and Reasons 