Day 39 of Lent, Good Friday: April 18, 2025
- Clay Gunter
- Apr 18
- 2 min read
Scripture: John 19:1–30; Isaiah 53:3–7; Luke 23:44–49
“It is finished.” – John 19:30
Devotion:
Good Friday is the darkest day of Holy Week. The crowds are gone. The palms have withered. The table has been cleared. Jesus has been arrested, beaten, mocked, and now—He is crucified.
We must not move too quickly past what crucifixion was. It was not simply a method of execution—it was state-sponsored torture. Rome perfected it as a brutal, public warning to anyone who dared challenge their power. It was designed to be slow, humiliating, and excruciating. Stripped, nailed, and hoisted high, victims suffocated under their own weight while soldiers cast lots for their clothes. It was death by asphyxiation, exposure, and despair.
This is what Jesus endured.
The same crowd who shouted “Hosanna!” five days earlier now cries, “Crucify him!” He is betrayed by a friend, denied by another, abandoned by almost all. The only crown He wears is made of thorns. The sign above His head reads “King of the Jews”—meant to mock, but ironically true.
And yet, Jesus speaks words of grace even from the cross. “Father, forgive them,” He prays. “Today you will be with me in paradise,” He promises. To Mary and John, He offers care. And in His final breath, He says, “It is finished.” Not as a cry of defeat—but of fulfillment.
Isaiah said it long before: “He was despised and rejected… pierced for our transgressions… by His wounds we are healed.” (Isaiah 53)
So why did it have to happen this way?
Because resurrection only comes after death. The alleluias of Easter are born from the ashes of Good Friday. The tomb had to be filled before it could be emptied. The sin and suffering of the world—ours included—had to be carried, and Christ carried them all the way to the cross.
As brutal as the crucifixion was, it reveals something powerful: Jesus doesn’t save us from suffering by avoiding it. He saves us through it by entering it fully. God doesn’t stand far off from pain. In Christ, God absorbs it. Endures it. Redeems it.
Today is not a day to rush past or sanitize. It’s a day to sit in the sorrow. To feel the weight. To acknowledge the suffering of the cross and our own part in it. And to remember—this is love. Not sentimental, soft-edged love. But gritty, self-giving, sacrificial love.
Love that bleeds.
Love that hangs on a cross.
Love that looks at the worst in us and says, “Father, forgive.”
We call it Good Friday not because what happened was good—but because what it accomplished is. The cross was not the end of Jesus’ story. It was the beginning of ours. The gates of death have been stormed. The grip of sin has been broken. The debt has been paid. The work is finished.
But resurrection hasn’t come yet. That’s for Sunday. Today, we sit in the ashes.
Because the ashes are necessary for the alleluias.
Reflection Questions:
What pain or sorrow do you need to bring to the foot of the cross today?
How does the reality of the crucifixion change the way you understand God’s love?
What part of your life still feels like Good Friday—and needs the promise of resurrection?
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