Good Friday, 2016

Once upon a time, I fancied myself a cryptic and tortured lyricist for a band I knew was going to be the next U2.  Unsurprisingly, reading high-school-era lyrics is a very humbling experience.  But every once in a while I come across something in the scrap heap that's worth revisiting.

Below is something I wrote, well over a decade ago, with Resurrection Sunday in mind.  In my head, the scene is a bit of a time-lapse: Golgotha's stony, unforgiving face transitioning from nightfall on Friday to daybreak on Sunday.

The reality that is so crucial for us to remember when it comes to Christ's atoning work on the cross is that the physicality of His death -- the lashings, the mocking, the cross, the nails, the suffocation, the humiliation -- all of this pales in comparison to the true suffering that Christ experienced: the divine wrath of a Holy God, for every single sin you, I, and the rest of humanity have and will ever commit, poured out on the innocent and perfect Lamb in the space of six agonizing hours.  Condemnation for us, separation from His Father -- a severing as such the Trinity had never experienced in all of eternity.

Yet it was by this sacrifice that God so perfectly glorified Himself by so deeply manifesting His love.

Jesus was crushed for our iniquities.  Upon Him fell the chastisement that brought us peace.

Thank You, Jesus.

~*~

The curtain is drawn

Hear the broken bugle call

The sky of iron swathed with cloud

And the crystal bullets fall

The broken, rocky face

An unworthy grave for a King

The roses pale and sway with the rain

Wondering what tomorrow will bring

The twisted thorns of agony

Lie before the temple veil

Torn in two, a liberation

Will anyone believe this tale?

Cold stone and iron nails

See the dead tree on the hill

The bloody sunrise sets the scene

For glory fulfilled

The empty field is parched by sun

Full of lilies sweet

Laughter flows across the scene

As the lame man gets to his feet

Said the lowly Son, “It is finished

The task is done.”

He said, “Father forgive them

They still think that death has won.”

Said the man of broken spirit,

“I can’t go on anymore”

Said the fisher of men,

“Let me lead you to the shore”