Happy Good Friday

On the evening news I saw highlights of how today, this most holy day for Christians, was celebrated around the world. We saw images of the Vatican, Israel, and even our own town of Winnipeg.

In the Philippines, there are some people who actually volunteer to be crucified. Every year we have seen images of these men who allow themselves to be attached to a cross and then raised up to hang for a period of time. Others will slap chords on their backs until they bleed.

Every year I wonder why they do it.

Are they trying to share in the suffering of Jesus Christ? Maybe they're trying to prove to God that they are willing to be crucified, to suffer for the sake of the gospel. Or perhaps they feel some need to suffer so that God will love them more. I really don't know. But I do find it repulsive. How can these guys even begin to understand the suffering of Jesus? The physical pain he endured on the cross was the least of his pain. While on the cross he carried the sins of the world on his shoulders and worse, was abandoned by God.

When reading the gospels in the New Testament, it is obvious that Jesus spent a lot of time with God. Often he would go someplace, away from his friends and the crowds to pray and meditate. Jesus and God were tight. And then, on Good Friday, he was abandoned by his Father, in his greatest time of need.

That's pain.

The Filipino guys have no idea, nor do any of us. I think that what they do makes a mockery of what Jesus did. And they do not understand the whole story. Jesus died, once and for all. He doesn't have to do it ever again. All of us have had our sins forgiven because of what happened on Good Friday. And because of what Jesus did, we don't have to prove to God that we love him. He loves us and that is that.

I was a young girl when I saw this spectacle for the first time. And like a good Christian girl, I felt guilty because I knew I could never do such a thing. I wasn't strong enough and I didn't love God enough.

I am grateful today because I know that there is nothing I have to do to earn the love of God. He showed that he loves me by allowing his Son to die a horrible death. All I need to do is accept this love.

On many levels I do not understand this story. I still wonder why God chose to carry out his plan for the world in this way. I could think of a number of ways this story could play out that aren't nearly as gruesome. But I always come back to it because it is a story about unconditional, incredible and amazing love. And that is something I can live with.