Good Friday

Come together tonight. Grateful that you have invited us to be a part of your family, that you have invited us, Lord, to come together as your church. And it's all because of your son, Jesus. It's all because of the willingness to put on flesh, to suffer and to die in our place. And we're grateful, Lord, for your grace.

We're grateful for your invitation. And we're grateful for the opportunity to be together tonight and to share these moments together. It's in Jesus name we pray. Amen. Thanks.

You can go ahead and have a seat.

Good Friday it seems an odd name given the circumstances. Thirteen men, a private meal Shocking predictions of betrayal denial Bread and body, wine and blood A coming covenant. Good Friday Familiar garden, Deep sorrow, Hunger for company, Desperate prayers Droplets of sweat and blood ooze from strained pores Friends with good intentions but heavy eyelids Innumerable sins One man's shoulders Good Friday Darkness pierced, Glowing torches Stillness broken Heavy footsteps clanking weapons Familiar face emerges from shadow Insincere kiss Innocent man arrested, bound, taken away, Companions scatter. Good Friday Jealous, judgmental Religious leaders eager to point fingers Contrived charges, contradictory accusations, false, foregone verdict of guilt Silence from the accused Good Friday Close friends cowardly denial Rooster crows, bitter tears Blood money returned, A tree a noose Good Friday Token trial Smug politicians bloodthirsty mob demands murderers release and death for the innocent. Pressure from crowd Governor caves Hands washed, buck passed.

Good Friday Purple robe, thorny crown Sadistic men Insults spit beatings cruel scourge Brutal blows Flesh shredded. Good Friday Rough, heavy timber raw bleeding shoulders wounded, dehydrated, barely able to walk Stranger plucked from gawking crowd Forced to carry bloody splintered beam Good Friday Skull hill Three men only two guilty Stretched out on wooden crosses Teeth gritted Hammer pounds, nails pierced wrists, ankles, muscles, tendons, moans agony. Good Friday Crosses hoisted, stood vertical, well used Holes blood stained ground Posts drop Bones jarred Victims rivet gasp for air Good Friday Taunts from crowd, Jeers from cross ridicule, contempt Soldiers gamble for middleman's clothing Good Friday Mysterious darkness, Grieving friends heartbroken mother Good Friday Words of desolation forsakeness One last cry Head drops, Chest stills Spirit surrendered. Good Friday Veil torn earth shaken, Rocks split, Tombs opened. Good Friday it seems an odd name given the circumstances.

Yet goodness is sometimes measured not in circumstances, but outcomes. God demonstrates his own love for us in this while we were still sinners. Christ died for us. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the Righteousness of God. This is how we know what love is.

Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering. Yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions. He was crushed for our iniquities.

The punishment that brought us peace was on him. And by his wounds we are healed. For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life. Good Friday. It seems an odd name.

Bleak day, lonely day, unjust day, cruel day, violent day, painful day, evil day, anything but good, it seems. But what Jesus did that day, Love demonstrated, sins atoned, heaven opened. Is the heart of the Gospel the good news? Good Friday. It seems an odd name, but whatever we call it, without it there is no resurrection, no victory, no hope.

Without Good Friday, there is no good news. Good Friday is one of many times when Jesus confused people. He knew his mission, and he faithfully pursued it. But people often failed to grasp why he said what he said and did what he did. And one of those confusing moments took place long before Good Friday.

Jesus had just miraculously multiplied a young boy's sack lunch and fed a crowd numbering in the thousands their fill of bread and fish. And not long after that, in the Capernaum synagogue, Jesus said, very truly, I tell you, the one who believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, yet they died. But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which anyone may eat and not die.

I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world. Then the Jews began to argue sharply among themselves. How can this man give us his flesh to eat?

Jesus said to them, very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life. And I will raise them up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in them.

Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Your ancestors ate manna and died. But whoever feeds on this bread will live forever. Sometime later, just before Jesus was betrayed and arrested, and crucified, he gathered his disciples for one final Passover meal.

And I wonder if while they sat together around that table, the disciples thought back to that bread of life talk that Jesus gave in John chapter six. This evening, as we remember the cross where our Savior suffered and died for our sins, we come to a time of communion that takes us back to John chapter six as well. Tonight we remember Jesus by eating his flesh, symbolized by a wafer of bread and drinking his blood, represented by a cup of grape juice. This is a meal designed not to fill our stomachs, but to nourish our souls. There are communion stations down here along the front of the room as well as along the back wall.

And you'll find that bread and that juice in double stacked cups in the trays on those tables. I'm going to lead us in prayer in just a moment and then we're going to invite you to move to whichever one of those communion stations is is closest to you. Please don't feel pressured in any way to participate, but we want you to know that everyone is welcome. And could I also encourage us this evening just to take our time?

Life is a rush. Let's slow down together for just a few moments. There's no need to hurry. Let's sit in this moment with Jesus. Let's reflect on his cross.

And as we remember Jesus, sacrifice as we feed on him, as we trust that God covers our sins and restores us to Himself, we find life. Would you pray with me, Father? God, we come tonight because you've made it possible for us to come. Because you have crossed time and space and put on flesh and suffered and died. You've endured the punishment that our sins deserve.

You have stood in the gap for us. You have bridged the chasm that our sin has carved out between us and you at the cross. And we thank you for that gift. And we thank you for this moment that reminds us of all that you've done to save us and restore us. Welcome us.

We're thankful, God, for the reminder of the bread, the reminder of the cup. And we're grateful for the privilege of sharing this moment together. Because you've called us together, not just as individuals, but as your family. And we thank you this evening for the opportunity to celebrate this moment together, to celebrate your goodness. And we pray all this in Jesus name, Amen.