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Sad Friday

Sad Friday

photo credit: Christopher JL via photopin cc

photo credit: Christopher JL via photopin cc

When I was a kid I used to think that today should be called “Sad Friday”. I thought “Good Friday” seemed ridiculous. I realized that it was good that Jesus died for me (and you and you and you and you) but even though it was good and necessary and perfect, it didn’t feel good.

Ah, how we humans like a feel-good moment.

We fight discomfort and awkwardness and emotional pain. It makes sense. We’re human. But when we can’t feel good, we often wear our sadness like a second skin. It’s often one of our most spectacular garments.

I was reading the last chapter of Deuteronomy today, the part where Moses was allowed to see the wide expanse of God’s Promised Land from high atop the mountain. God revealed the goodness before him but since Moses had disobeyed, he was not allowed to enter that land. I’m sure that beautiful moment was bittersweet for Moses as he gazed upon God’s provision for the people he loved.

When Moses died, it says the people mourned him “thirty days, until the time of weeping and mourning was over.” (v. 8)

Thirty days! Official mourning! And that was probably just the beginning.

Talk about officially wearing sadness. Those slow, terrible days probably made their grief feel heavy around their shoulders. Heavy and burdensome. I’m guessing it was hard to breathe in those thirty days. Moses had been their guide, their leader, the one who, through his relationship with God, helped to show them the way.

On this “Sad Friday” so long ago, I can’t even begin to imagine how devastated Jesus’s disciples and followers and friends and family were. I’m guessing there was some deep, deep heart-aching pain. Difficulty-breathing-in-and-out pain. Getting-ready-for-the-long-haul-mourning kind of pain.

“I thought He was . . .”

“I didn’t think this was the way . . .”

“Why didn’t He . . .”

“But I believed . . . ”

Sad. Distraught. Devastated.

Sad Friday.

But the official mourning of Christ’s death did not last 30 days. It lasted three. Oh, thank God, it only lasted three.

Our garments of TRUE sadness need not ever be worn again. Because. Three days.

Get ready for a feel-good kind of moment. Sunday’s coming.

 

Comments

  1. This was great Katie!

  2. just found your blog through another one, and I’m so happy to find other believers in the blogosphere! Growing up, I thought the same thing here about ‘good’ Friday. Seemed like the wrong name for such a terrible day. Maybe we should call it Sacrificial Friday. Seems more appropriate. Whatever we call it, it’s still a hard day. I watched the new Bible series and fell in love w/ Jesus all over again. Come visit, if you’d like:
    from The Dugout

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