Good Friday

By any standard Good Friday did not appear to be a good day at all.  I would venture to say it appeared to be a miserable, terrible, awful, very bad, worst-ever day. Hope was hung on the gallows, Love seemed impaled by hate. Faith followed from afar, and Truth had fallen in the street. All the promises of a Kingdom Come collapsed in a pile of smoldering ashes like the Cathedral at Notre Dame (Our Lady). Those voices which, a week before, sang Hosanna were now hushed. Those trying to follow Jesus while building their house upon a rock were now in shock. Ten Thousand prayers of the saints launched in desperation seemed to fall like lead from the sky, as Ten Thousand angels must have received orders to “Stand Down” and appeared to do nothing to save the day. God could have saved the day. Jesus could have called Ten Thousand angels, and with a single word incinerated every sinner on earth, but like a sheep before his shearers was dumb, Jesus opened not his mouth. Unknown to almost all that day, the words of Christ himself were being fulfilled, as the seed fell into the ground and died. That Friday was indeed glorious and the last and final sacrifice for sin. And that day would be crowned with a diadem forged in the fires of the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, and the words “It is finished” the cornerstone of our new creation. What for our Savior was the hardest day ever, saved the day in eternity as the day Jesus paid our sin debt in full.  Yes, that day was a Good Day indeed.   -id