Fragment #11: Good(?) Friday
“Why do they call it Good Friday? What’s good about it?” - Ethan Hawley, The Winter of Our Discontent
Why, I wonder, do we call a bad day good?
Yes, I know. Through the cross comes redemption, down the Via Dolorosa, true joy. Without Good Friday there is no Easter Sunday, I readily accept; that it leads to a good thing, I understand; but why should we call the tragedy itself good?
A day when evil had the supposed final word and darkness swallowed up the sun, when humanity murdered its Creator and the dirt upon Calvary was soaked with blood, when Christ himself was forsaken and cried out for help, when the earth trembled and quaked such that even the most callous bystanders beat their chests and wept over the injustice? Is it not an outrage to immortalize and celebrate and romanticize this day with our paintings and movies and crucifixes? To portray that sorrowful man hanging on the cross, thorns piercing his temples, marred and disfigured and writhing like a worm, and claim there is beauty in his sorrow?
I believe in the miracle of the Resurrection. I believe the tragedy hanging above the altar is not the final Word. That we do not need to weep with the women of Jerusalem, that the Light has already overcome the darkness.
Why then should we remember this dark day at all? And why, for the love of all that is holy, should we call it good?
Forgive me for snapping off this fragment with my frayed, unanswered threads, but this seems only appropriate.
Today is a day of questions, not answers.
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