by Trevor Sannes
Click here to watch the recording on YouTube.
We made it to Friday, for many that work Monday through Friday, Fridays tend to be “Good Fridays”. However, today is in fact the real Good Friday. Called out on the calendar, yet for some it may have a different meaning. For some, it may mark the Friday before Easter. Some may even have it off as a holiday that they may or may not observe themselves.
For us who have attended Palm Sunday, Wednesday service (Passover beings) and Maud Thursday, this is the peak of the Holy story, the day Jesus is put on the cross. After he was led into Jerusalem on a donkey, where people laid down branches of palms and coats to line his way into the city.
Maundy Thursday, where he has supper with his disciples and declares, “Very truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me.” Starting to lay the ground for what is to come. Here we have Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. Where he washes Simon Peter who says “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus answers, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Peter said to him “you will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered , “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Here he also gives insights that he knew someone was going to betray him and so he made the statement “Not all of you are clean.” From this he states that he is setting the example of what is needed.
This all brings us to Friday, Good Friday. Where Jesus has had to carry the cross, he is to hang from and where we are forced to face seeing Jesus on the cross and witness his death. A cross that would have stood 7-9 feet tall once set up for Jesus to be hung on. The image is heavy and the emotions this can bring up around our own mortality is profound. On Ash Wednesday, we were asked to look at our own mortality.
I found myself even having to think about my own mortality while writing this sermon. Think about the family and friends I have lost in my short time on this earth. How I was on the bedside of my father in-law as he took his last breath and how quite the room seem, how time seem to stop for a second. Even has I write this sermon I had a dear friend passed away after a long battle with cancer at 69. Then my great aunt on my father’s side, passed away at 95.
The thing is as we get older, there is more and more chances for us to all have to experience death. On Good Friday, we are asked to look as Jesus embraces death. Maybe a training ground for each of us to help us prepare. It is common knowledge that when people die, they typically do not come back to us in three days. For some of us, death may bring up some fears or concerns over our own mortality and death. I know I have had those fears and I know some of my friends too, but we will not be the first to die nor the last. Today’s Gospel asks us to sit with those feelings and to hear the message God has for each of us.
Reading over the Gospel today, you can see when we are at our lowest, God is there. The teachings in the readings tells us that when we suffer, God is there.
John’s Gospel shows Jesus not as a victim of chaos, but as one who freely chooses love. When the soldiers arrive, Jesus steps forward: “I am he.” When Peter draws a sword, Jesus refuses violence. When Pilate boasts of his power, Jesus quietly unmasks it. When he is lifted up on the cross, he is enthroned as a different kind of king – one whose crown is made of thorns, whose glory is self‑giving love.
John wants us to see that the cross is not defeat; it is revelation. It reveals who God is. It reveals who we are. It reveals the depth of love that will go to the very end.
One piece that stands out to me is that when Jesus’ mother and his mother’s sister, were at the foot of the cross. Jesus also noted that his disciple whom he loved, standing beside his mother, he says “Woman, here is your son.” Then he said to the disciple, “here is your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home. Even in agony, Jesus is forming a new kind of family – one not defined by blood, but by love and faithfulness. Showing family can be those we choose to be in our lives and how impactful that can be. This is something the LGBTQ community knows well.
The scripture goes on to say that Jesus said “I am thirsty.” A jar full of sour wine was standing there. So, they put a sponge full of wine on a branch and held it to his mouth. When Jesus had received the wine, he said “It is finished.” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirt.
Jesus speaks the words that echo across history: “It is finished.” Not “I am finished.” Not “This is the end.” But “It is finished”—the work of love, the work of reconciliation, the work of bearing the world’s brokenness.
The scripture from Luke 23:34, where Jesus says from the cross, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” Speaks of this love and forgiveness, given to us. This statement speaks so strongly to me and connects to John’s Gospel. Where Jesus in Jonh 3:16 says “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.”
So, what does Good Friday ask of us?
First, it asks us to look honestly at the world. The cross exposes the violence, fear, and injustice that still shape human life. It shows us what happens when truth threatens power, when love confronts fear, when God enters a world that prefers control. Good Friday is not just about what happened then; it is about what still happens now.
Second, Good Friday asks us to look honestly at ourselves. Do we see ourselves in the disciples who flee, in Peter who denies, in Pilate who washes his hands, in the crowds who shout for Barabbas (Ba – rab – bas). Barabbas was involved in insurrection and murder. He was released by Pontius Pilate instead of Jesus during the Passover festival. His name is derived from Aramaic (air-uh-may-ik), literally means “son of the father” (Bar = Son, Abba = father). Irony that the crowd chose a false “son of the father” over the true Son of God.
The cross reveals our capacity for betrayal, cowardice, and complicity. But it also reveals our capacity for love, courage, and compassion—seen in the women who remain, in the beloved disciple who stays, in Joseph and Nicodemus who step forward when it matters most.
Finally, Good Friday asks us to look honestly at God. And what we see is astonishing. We see a God who does not run from suffering but enters it. A God who does not respond to violence with violence. A God who forgives even as he is being killed. A God who turns the world upside down by refusing to play by its rules.
Good Friday tells us that God is not found in the places of triumph, but in the places of pain. God is with the abandoned. God is with the oppressed. God is with the grieving. God is with the crucified of every age.
And because God is there, suffering is not the end of the story. Love has gone all the way down into death itself, and love will rise.
So today, we stand at the foot of the cross. We do not rush to Easter. We do not skip the pain. We stay here, in this moment, with the God who stays with us. And we listen.
We listen to the cry of the forsaken. We listen to the silence of the tomb. We listen to the heartbeat of a love that will not let the world go.
And we trust—quietly, humbly—that even here, even now, God is at work. Healing. Reconciling. Transforming. Finishing the work of love. Amen.
