Another Good Friday.  Another year gone by since the last time we gathered here to hear these same readings and venerate this same cross.  Another Good Friday to focus on some pretty difficult things, some painful things, some things that are pretty hard to make complete sense of, some things that probably cause most of us (or possibly all of us) a certain amount of sorrow and regret and uneasiness.

Never an easy day.  But we are called to resist the temptation to passover this day and go quickly to Easter Sunday and joyful celebrations.

Even as children we probably knew these days were different.  Maybe we experienced a somber mood that permeated our house.  Or No TV.  No running around and playing and laughing and enjoying ourselves. 

We remember the time Jesus was in the tomb, and act differently from the rest of the world --- today and tomorrow we think about things we rarely think about the rest of the year.  And I don’t mean this in a bad way.  The opposite is true, actually.  The changes we make to our normal routine teach us the importance of what these Holiest of Days mean, the “specialness” of what we believe in faith --- teach us what can only be called a truly profound truth, that our God . . . .

. . . was (and is) willing to do anything for us.

And while we maybe believe there are persons in our lives who fit that description (or maybe we believe WE are that person for others), we know from experience that that’s not the case.  Not that there aren’t some pretty wonderful people among us --- in our families, our workplaces, our schools, our neighborhoods.  There are.  But not one of us is perfect.  We all have been hurt and have hurt others.  We all have done things we regret.  We all have been selfish and petty and judgmental and cruel at one time or another.

That’s why this day is so difficult --- for we know that we have fallen far short of the kind of love God has for us, the kind of sacrificial love on display in the story we just heard.  We know that God wants us to be better and that we CAN be better.  After all, that’s how he made us.

But then there’s sin --- that stubborn, mysterious condition we all find ourselves in--- a condition from which we can never free ourselves on our own.  It’s like being in quicksand and not having anything to grab on to.  At least, that’s how it was, that’s the situation humanity had brought upon ourselves.

Not anymore.

The idea of being “saved” is not an easy one to wrap our minds around.  If you don’t believe me, try to explain it to someone.  It’s much harder than you think. 

And it’s good to wrestle with these things, wonder what it all means, wonder why God chose this way to reach out and pull us out of the muck --- used this way to free us from everything that was weighing us down and holding us back and harming both ourselves and others.

But maybe today is not the day to contemplate all of that.

Maybe it’s just a day to sit here with a profound sense of gratitude --- resting in God’s mercy and love and compassion.  Maybe it’s a day to not try to ‘figure out” anything, but rather is a day to just open our hearts to a God who simply wants to love us and forgive us and pour his life into us.  Maybe it’s a day to stop doing what we so often do --- stop looking for ways to blame others --- and instead admit that the path to a better world starts with the person we see in the mirror.

We are not alone.  In fact, we are never alone.  That’s the sort of God we have, a God who doesn’t want to watch from a distance and wonder why we aren’t the people he created us to be.  Rather, our incredible God wants to provide us with every chance, every opportunity to live beautiful, meaningful, God-centered lives.  Put simply --- he just wants to love us.

And his cross shows us just how much.

Into your hands, Lord, we commend our spirits.