How Can you Say it's a "Good" Friday?
When you knock on someone's door, you except them to answer. And when you hear the locks turning, your expectation increases. You know you'll see them moments from now.
When Mary, Mary, Joanna, and the other women went to the tomb on that first Easter weekend, however, they didn't plan on knocking on the door, they didn't think it would ever open from the inside, and they certainly didn't expect to see the living Christ moments from their arrival.
They never expected an open tomb.
They never expected a risen Savior.
They never expected a reason to rejoice.
They never expected to be the first witnesses of the resurrection of the Messiah.
They never expected that the day Christ was crucified would one day be called, "Good."
What could be good about the violent, humiliating execution of the Son of God? What could be good about the puddles of blood that stained the wooden cross? What could be good about the hole in his side? What could be good about the dark sky, the torn curtain, and his final breath?
Good?
It could not be seen as good except through the lens of an open grave, an empty tomb, a Risen Savior.
For then, his blood is our atonement.
His wounds are our healing.
His sacrifice is our propitiation.
His curse is our redemption.
His rejection is our reconciliation.
His death is our life.
We should not expect to find Jesus on the other side of the grave's door, for we should not expect to find the living among the dead. No, but rather, "Christ Jesus is the one who died, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God" (Romans 8:34).
