Sitting at the Cross - Friday, 04/03/2026 — Good Friday

Scripture Reading: Matthew 27:32–54

Good Friday is the hardest day of the church year. There's nothing triumphant about it. No resurrection yet. No silver lining. Just a man on a cross, dying in public, abandoned by most of the people who said they loved him. If we rush through it — if we treat it as just the hard part before Easter — we miss what it's actually saying. The cross is not an unfortunate detour on the way to the good stuff. It is the center of the story.

In a town like Monroe, where people work hard and carry real burdens — job stress, broken relationships, health worries, the ache of loss — Good Friday speaks a particular kind of truth. It says: God is not far away from suffering. God went straight into the middle of it. The cry of Jesus from the cross — "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" — is the cry of everyone who has ever felt abandoned, alone, or left behind. And God let that cry be part of scripture. It wasn't edited out. It wasn't softened. Because God takes our darkest moments seriously.

The people standing at the cross that day didn't fully understand what was happening. They thought it was defeat. A Roman soldier standing guard, watching a man die, said it plainly: "Surely this was the Son of God." Something in the way Jesus died — something in how he carried it — broke through even the hardest observer. There was love in that death. A love so committed to us that it refused to take the easy way out.

Don't rush to Easter today. Sit at the cross for a while. Let it be heavy. Let it be real. Whatever pain or grief or weight you are carrying into this weekend, bring it here first — because this is exactly the place where God says: I know. I was here too. And I did not look away.

Reflection Question:

Is there something you've been carrying that feels too heavy, too dark, or too broken to bring to God? What would it mean to believe that the cross tells us that's exactly where God meets us?

Action Step:

Set aside fifteen minutes today to sit with the weight of Good Friday. No music, no distractions. Read Matthew 27:45-54 slowly. If you're carrying something painful, say it out loud to God. Let the cross be a real place today, not just a symbol.

Prayer:

God, thank you for not looking away from the cross — and for not looking away from me in my hardest moments. Help me find you here, in the dark, before I rush toward the light. Amen.