Quite frankly, I hate Good Friday. It’s dreary and dark and there’s the cross and the blood and the whipping and the people calling for Jesus to die. There’s the lance through Jesus’ side and the falling on the road and the pieta—where Jesus’ body is handed over to his mother, Mary—what torture for any mother to see her son like that!
No, Good Friday is not a comfortable wooden rocking chair kind of day. It is an uncomfortable wooden cross kind of day.
Read the rest of the article here on Busted Halo.
Good Friday confronts us with the wood of the cross. Can we be brave enough to confidently say…come…let us worship?
BTW–the podcast version is found here