Good
Friday has always confused me.
I
remember a few years ago my mother insisted that we celebrate Good Friday. Many Mormon congregations love to celebrate
Easter Sunday and sing "He is Risen," but we often skim over Holy
Week and the events leading up to His resurrection. Wanting to combat this
oversite, my mother read us bible verses, and we talked about how amazing the
atonement of Jesus Christ is. I appreciated her testimony, I enjoyed the space
for me to find my testimony, I understood the significance of Christ's
sacrifice for us, BUT I still could never quite pin down why everyone was
always calling this day so good.
What
was good about Christ's experience in the Garden of Gethsemane, where he bled
from every poor and cried for help as he experienced the weight of the world,
all while his friends slept nearby...
How
can a morning that starts with the ultimate betrayal from one of your own be
qualified as a good day...
Where
was the good in the unjust trials that Christ was subjected to by the
government despite having done no wrong...
Which
part of the beatings and whippings Christ endured or the cross he had to carry
was good...
How
could you apply the word good to any situation that involved watching your son,
your brother, or your very best friend hanging on the cross for nothing more
than daring to be righteous and fulfill God's will...
Where
was the good in the moment where God had to completely withdraw from Christ's
life in his most significant moment of human pain and suffering...
Of
that Friday, Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin has said,
“The earth shook and grew
dark. Frightful storms lashed at the earth. Those evil men who sought His life
rejoiced. Now that Jesus was no more, surely those who followed Him would
disperse. On that day they stood triumphant. On that day the veil of the temple
was rent in twain. Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of Jesus, were both
overcome with grief and despair. The superb man they had loved and honored hung
lifeless upon the cross. On that Friday the Apostles were devastated. Jesus,
their Savior—the man who had walked on water and raised the dead—was Himself at
the mercy of wicked men. They watched helplessly as He was overcome by His
enemies. On that Friday the Savior of mankind was humiliated and bruised,
abused and reviled. It was a Friday filled with devastating, consuming sorrow
that gnawed at the souls of those who loved and honored the Son of God.
I think that of all the days
since the beginning of this world’s history, that Friday the darkest.”
These
feelings of confusion and pain and sheer amazement that something so dark could
be called Good have never rung truer in my life than they did today. Over the last 18 months, I have dealt with
pain surrounding not only who I am and what I believe, but also the pain of the
world around me. We live in a world where toxic masculinity, violence, and
sheer hatred are slowly killing our society. We live in a world where its ok to
withhold rights from other human beings because of who they choose to love,
what anatomy they are born with, or even just what country they came from. The
last few months I have been simultaneously lifted up by campaigns to spread
awareness of mental health problems, demand women’s rights, and stop gun
violence across America, and I have also been equally disheartened.
I have seen grown adults bully brave teenagers
who have just survived one of the most traumatic experiences a human will go
through.
I have heard institutions and religious
leaders that I love dismiss the bravest of women in the interest of protecting
a man.
I
have heard over and over that imagining a world where violence like this
doesn’t exist, and people can solve problems through words not war is naïve and
just plain wrong.
I
have been told over and over again that I am lucky to live in a country where I
have freedom, and what we have is “good” enough.
This
morning these thoughts were weighing me down. I fell deep down an internet
rabbit hole that led me into the depths of all of these problems, and I was so
far down I could not pull myself out. No song I tried to listen to could drown
out the darkness. No video I turned on could distract from the hatred that
abounds. No text or call that I received or sent could provide me with enough
human connection to even begin to overcome any of the despair. How could a life
that seemed so profoundly dark and troubling be so good?
The
answer came to me in the form of a scripture (And a talk containing the words I
have already quoted and more that I will bring to this post in a short time).
One of my friends serving a mission right now shared a post about reading the
book of Mormon. While I have not had the best scripture reading record this
year, I decided to give it a try. I turned to Helaman Chapter 10. In this
chapter, Alma (a missionary sent to teach people of Christ) is weighed down by
the wickedness of the people he is trying to help. He receives a pep talk and
the sealing power that will keep families together forever from Heavenly
Father. My favorite part comes at the
end, where after Alma goes back and preaches to them again, and the people
continue fighting. Eventually, a gang of robbers will turn that generation into
a very wicked generation. In the end, because the people didn’t listen to Alma,
it will be the downfall of their society.
There are no false happy endings or pretenses in this story. It’s a
realistic ending. Heavenly Father was not worried about the people around Alma;
he was concerned about Alma’s convictions and desires. As long as Alma did his
best to be righteous and spread his knowledge to others, the Lord would take
care of the rest. And despite all of his trials, Alma received many
blessings. There was good that came from
his experiences.
To
continue Elder Wirthlin’s words from earlier,
“But the doom of that day did
not endure.
The despair did not linger
because, on Sunday, the resurrected Lord burst the bonds of death. He ascended
from the grave and appeared gloriously triumphant as the Savior of all mankind.
And in an instant the eyes
that had been filled with ever-flowing tears dried. The lips that had whispered
prayers of distress and grief now filled the air with wondrous praise, for
Jesus the Christ, the Son of the living God, stood before them as the first
fruits of the Resurrection, the proof that death is merely the beginning of a
new and wondrous existence.”
Good
Friday is good because the events that took place that day allowed Christ to
complete the atonement and to overcome all of the bad he experienced. The pain
he felt for each, and every one of us was good because it would help him lift
us up in our own individual trials. The suffering he endured on his own because
now we do not have to walk our paths alone.
Elder
Wirthlin closed his remarks with this promise,
“Each of us will have our own
Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of
our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken
times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our
Fridays.
But I testify to you in the
name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our
sorrow, Sunday will come.
No matter our desperation, no
matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will
come.”
I am
the first to admit that life is hard. The world is a crazy place, and we are
all dealing with Fridays that shatter us on a constant basis. This morning was
just ONE of the Fridays where I have felt my world shatter over the last 18
months. While it was painful and scary and darker than I have ever known, it
allowed me to see and be grateful for the light. Out lives are full of fridays that will shatter us and trails that break us dow, but it is in theis process of breaking and rebuilding that we come to know Christ. We can see Him and His goodness as we use his atonment he completed on Good Friday to get us though our darkest days.His light shines even brighter in the darkness. I want to add my testimony to so
many more and say that Christ lives and because He lives, I can have hope. I can have
hope that all of the problems I am constantly working to solve will one day be
resolved. I can have faith that even though none of this pain feels good right
now, that Sunday will come and I will see it. Because of him, I can feel the
love and the peace and use that to fuel my fire for change.
Because
of Him, Friday can be good, but Sunday will be even better!
Here is a link
to Elder Wirthlin’s full talk entitled, “Sunday Will Come”:
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