A Special Friday

And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified [Jesus], and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And they cast lots to divide his garments. And the people stood by, watching, but the rulers scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!”  Luke 23:33-35

Yesterday was Good Friday. It also marked the 15th year anniversary of when I became a Christian, of when God saved me from myself for Himself. I had every reason in the world to be joyful yesterday. But I wasn't. Instead, I was irritable, grumbling inwardly, and wanted to be alone. Instead of focusing on how much I had to be thankful for (I mean, literally, yesterday symbolized the very foundation of gratitude), I was focusing on how well I didn't sleep the night before, how upset my stomach felt, and how dreary and cold the weather was. The skies were very gray, which is not uncommon to Pittsburgh, much like my melancholy attitude.

I even had a very fruitful time reading a couple of meditations yesterday morning about Good Friday, which was in the Holy Week devotional I have been reading this week. Through those readings, God allowed me to sense some of the weight and burden of what Jesus went through on the cross; more than just the physical agony, but the isolation and emptiness of Him being separated from His heavenly Father. And as much as this reading gripped me and drew me near to the throne of God's grace, I still couldn't shake the way I was feeling. I was struggling to fight for joy.

But then evening came, which brought with it the Good Friday service at Renaissance Church. It was just what I needed to refocus and reset, to remember what Christ had done for me. During the service, we raised our voices in praise to Jesus, who paid the penalty for our sins by dying on the cross, and we focused on the seven statements He made as He hung there in agony. The final words of a dying man. A man who was more than a man; this was the Creator of the universe sacrificing Himself for His rebellious and helpless creatures.

During the service, the Lord convicted me of my sinful attitude: of my grumbling heart and loveless disposition. I did have every reason to rejoice. When I was 17, God saved me. It wasn't because He saw anything good in me. I thought I was good. I thought He would be lucky to have me. But I wasn't good enough to warrant His attention and affection and rescue. It wasn't that I didn't believe in His existence, that was instilled in me in childhood; it's that I was apathetic to Him. When I heard the truth of my need for Him, I didn't react. I pondered, I considered, but I did nothing. So, in essence, I was rejecting Jesus and the work He did for me on the cross. I thought my good deeds were good enough and that I didn't need a sinless substitute to take God's away anger toward my sin. In fact, I didn't think God was angry with me at all, and if He was, I was the one to do something about it, not Jesus.

Like everyone else, I wanted to live life my own way. I was living for the approval of others and for my own esteem and benefit. But it was in the midst of this selfish pursuit that God began chasing after me. The words from the sermons at church started to grab my heart. I didn't totally understand why I needed Jesus in my life, but I couldn't get away from the idea that I did. The thought kept infringing itself upon my mind until I couldn't resist anymore. I needed Jesus. So, on Saturday evening when I got home from work on March 25, 2001, I told my dad I wanted to become a Christian, not even knowing what that really meant. He led me in a prayer of repentance for my sins and of asking Jesus to be the Savoir and Lord of my life. The words weren't magical. I didn't feel any tingling sensations or anything, but I did feel peace and purpose. I had this newfound resolve (strength from God) to follow Jesus and learn more about Him. In some sense, I realized that I belonged to another. Someone else would be calling the shots in my life.

As I read the meditations about Good Friday and sung the lyrics to the songs at the service and listened to the sermonette on Jesus being forsaken by God on the cross as He bore the sins of all His people, I couldn't help but think about how on this day 2000-plus years ago, Jesus died to set me free from sin and death and to bring me into a relationship with God, and how 15 years ago, Jesus cashed in that payment, so to speak, to make His sacrifice a reality in my life, to gain the prize for which He died. He not only became sin while on the cross (2 Corinthians 5:21), He became my sin. He not only faced the full wrath of God against sin, He faced the full wrath of God against my sin. It was the punishment that I deserved. Jesus never did or thought or said anything wrong. He wasn't apathetic to the things of God. He didn't grumble when things didn't go His way. He wasn't irritable or antisocial. Yet He paid for penalty as if He did. In fact, He became the very ugliness that lies in the crevices of my heart: the thoughts and motives and attitudes I wouldn't want anyone to see (and they wouldn't want to see them either). But Jesus sees them and instead of leaving me in disgust and sending me to hell (which would have been just), He took on flesh and then died, becoming those very things, in order that He could defeat sin and death and set me free and make me new.

One of the things Jesus said from the cross before He died was, "It is finished." The purpose for which He was born had been accomplished. He in some mysterious way took on the sins of the world and drunk the symbolic cup of God's fury against sin and unrighteousness while He was on the cross. And so those three words from Jesus continue to ring true for every one who trusts in Him. "It is finished." He speaks those words over every believer, including me.

And so last night, I recommitted myself to the Lord, giving Him the blank check of my life. Whatever He wants for me, I want it. Wherever He wants me to go, I'll go. That's what following Him means and that's what trusting Him looks like. He gave everything for me; the least I can do is live completely for Him. And by His grace and strength, I won't grumble about whatever He has in store, but will rejoice in all that God is for me and has done for me in Christ.