April 3, 2026 ☩ Good Friday

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John 18:1-19:42  

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“Finished?”

Jesus’ last words in John’s Gospel are: “It is finished.”  The evangelist immediately follows this with the moment of death.  A mother grieves and wails on her knees at the foot of the cross.  A disciple remains beside Mary, consoling her and grieving the loss of his wise-teacher, the blessing of walking beside our Lord who performed miraculous signs including restoring life, and the one who was true hope hangs dead upon a crucifix, an instrument of shameful death, torture, pain, and fear. 

When Gabriel visits Mary, she asks: “How can this be?” [Lk 1:34]  When Nicodemus meets Jesus at night and Jesus tells him one must be born from above, Nicodemus asks a similar sentiment: “How can these things be?” [cf. John 3:9]  Jesus says ‘it is finished,’ but we still wonder and ask: How can this be?

Mary mourns her child, whom she loved, raised, and cared for with her whole being, even fleeing her homeland to become a migrant for the sake of survival.  She knows Jesus is God’s Son, and at the foot of the cross, her tears tell us she does not have the closure Jesus seems to convey with ultimate and final confidence, so much so that he chose these as his final words.  John, the beloved disciple who bears witness to the final moments of Jesus life also must be questioning the finality, because for him, as a disciple, he must be wondering: ‘well what am I to do now?’ 

These are practical and likely sentiments.  Those beside Jesus must have felt at a loss when their Savior’s life is taken as a tool of politics and abuse of power.  They were left alone to figure out the answer to the question ‘what now?’

We should find ourselves able to connect with the remembrance we undertake this very day.  At times, we find clear hope, safety, and security.  Then, suddenly, that which we treasured on earth vanishes.  In the crucifixion and death of Jesus Christ, the hope of Salvation was not lost alongside his life.  A monumental change did occur.  The disciples could not free themselves of the box of mortal life.  Jesus, the Son of God, is not bound to mortal life, being of the very Divine substance (homoousios – a term meaning ‘same substance’ employed in the Council of Nicaea in 325 when determining the relationship and connection between the Holy Trinity).  A great change did take place.  Jesus’ mortal body perished.  The aspect of Jesus that could be most readily understood and known, by sight, sound, and touch, had gone.  Yet, Jesus’ Divinity could not be squashed.  His death then resurrection, provided this clarity. 

Still, we are not yet to Easter to celebrate the resurrection.  This day, we sit in the upsetting silence of Jesus’ heartbeat.  We sit in gut-wrenching inner shock of asking “how can this be?” while hearing the background of wailing in grief of a few, and mocking from others, of the Messiah who lived a life of teaching, healing, and bringing people together.

Even though we bear the wisdom and insight of time, holding the faithful knowledge of Jesus’ resurrection that the disciples did not yet come to terms with, we still know and feel the incompleteness, the unfinished business of faith. 

Let us raise our lament to our Lord this day of the injustices of the world, our nation, and our communities.  How can these be?  Let us mourn the loss of a hope that once brought such glorious light into our lives that suddenly departed.  How can this be?  Let us remember the depth of loss, so when we do arrive on Easter morning, we can feel with greater resolve, with more immense conclusiveness, the resurrected hope of true Life in Christ.  The light we had, is not gone, we just may struggle to perceive its new form.  Jesus has finished the work of bringing Life and Hope.  Those who feel at a greater loss of these will find a greater joy in the magnitude of restored knowledge of Jesus’ continued work of Salvation for all time.  A hungry man who finds a five dollar bill on the street finds much more joy in that discovery than a rich man who does not have the same base need to fill.  A wealthy person who eats from a full refrigerator surely will not find as much joy in eating a piece of bread as one whose stomach growls from starvation. 

Today, we are all starved as we fall on our knees beside Mary and John at the foot of the cross.  We are starved for our beloved to be with us in the way we once knew.  It is our hunger that will enable us to more readily understand the greater glory of God beyond the emptying of the tomb to the moment of recognition when Jesus comes to us.

Finished?  How can this be? … since, in faith, we know that Hope, Life, and Salvation remain alive.