Holy Drama
Good Friday
Reflection By Kyle Oliver
My song is love unknown
My Savior’s love to me
Love to the loveless shown
That they might lovely be.
- Samuel Crossman
I have stark childhood memories of going to church on Good Friday. The ministers wore all black. The service was very long. The prayers were very serious. We kneeled for so long my knees hurt. At one point, the priest carried in a cross made of thick, pitted railroad ties. It was truly too heavy for him to carry.
The drama showed us lots of emotions, most of them negative. I took that as a sign that I was supposed to feel a certain way: sad, guilty, burdened. I thought the message of the day was something like this: Look at all the suffering we put Jesus through! That I put him through. The least we can do is to walk this path with him for a couple hours. Maybe then we’ll be grateful for all he endured for us.
None of this is wrong, I suppose. I was right to want to explore, even experience, the emotions of the Good Friday drama for myself, rather than trying to shut them out or push them away. We should walk through this day fully open to the impact of the story.
But I don’t think I was seeing the whole meaning of that story. Compassion literally means “suffering with,” and I thought those Good Friday services were telling me that I was supposed to walk with Jesus, even suffer with Jesus. I now believe I was getting the message of the day exactly backward. Now I understand a different message, that he chooses to walk with me.
Years after those childhood services, a different priest pointed out to me that we read John’s story of Jesus’s passion on Good Friday precisely because this telling deemphasizes Jesus’s suffering. It focuses instead on his compassion for others, for the world, for us. He carries his cross himself. It is not too heavy for him, and he does not stumble. When he is thirsty, he asks for something to drink. When he sees his mother and his beloved disciple, he tells them to care for one another. And when his time has come, he declares his work finished and bows his head.
There is no cry of pain or betrayal in John’s passion story—just the King of Love reigning from the cross, showing us God’s ultimate compassion and limitless willingness to give.
It’s true that throughout his life, and throughout our lives, Jesus asks us to follow him in his way of love. But I humbly submit to you that today is a day to simply let the drama wash over us. There’s nothing we need to do or say or feel.
Today is the day when Jesus finishes his work of revealing to us God’s love and compassion.