I wonder if anyone told Jesus and his disciples that it was Good Friday. It probably did not seem so “good” to them. More like Bad Friday. Or maybe it was, What Just Happened Friday. Better yet, The Worst Friday Since Friday Was Invented Friday. Peter almost chopped a dude’s head off and then denied that he knew Jesus. John tried to comfort a brokenhearted mother. The rest of the disciples ran away. It probably wasn’t such a good day for Simon either. He was forced to help an innocent, bloody criminal carry a heavy cross up a hill. What was so good about watching your teacher and mentor being beaten senseless, mocked, spat upon, and nailed to a cross? And judging by Jesus’ prayer in the garden, he wasn’t thinking Friday was so great either. Even though he knew the purpose for his suffering, Jesus still needed his Father’s strength to complete his task. Did the weight of the sin of the world feel good on his shoulders? Did it warm his heart when his Father turned away from him? When he felt rejected and forsaken? Good Friday? Not to them it wasn’t!
Sunday. Now that was a GOOD day! Sunday made it all clear. Sunday made it all worth it. Sunday fired up some disciples. Sunday started a revolution. Friday was only good because of Sunday!