Several years ago I wrote a poem for Good Friday, using the seven last words of Christ from the cross. I’ve posted it each year during Easter Season on this site. Here it is again. I hope it encourages you. Below the poem are some thoughts about Holy Saturday, the day after Good Friday.
A Poem For Good Friday
Hoisted upon Calvary’s tree
To rectify the sin in me
Jesus looked upon the crowd
Announcing in a voice so loud
“Father forgive them for they know not what they do”
Beautiful words spoken to Gentile and Jew
Callously gambling for a piece of His clothing
The soldiers oblivious man’s redemption He was buying
“Come down from the cross, if you are the Son of God!”
Crowd spoken mockery on Golgotha’s sod
Criminals, on either side of the Lamb
Both facing life’s final exam
“ Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!”
Criminal’s jeering words in the form of a cuss.
“Jesus remember me when You come into Your Kingdom!”
Contrasting words, heart changing, unable to stay mum.
The lips of our Lord move a second time
Responding to the one convicted of crime
Looking straight at the man, knowing all of his vice
“Today you will be with me in paradise.”
That’s when His gaze came upon those He loved,
Some women, a disciple and the mother beloved.
“Dear woman, here is your son,” pronounced He to Mary.
“Here is your mother,” to John, while so wearied.
And then in the middle of that solemn day
Darkness hovered, black sky, not just gray
He who was holy became sin, no facade
And for the first time God was separated from God
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Was the awful cry that came from that tree.
The only thing in all the world capable of dividing the Trinity
Was the sin of every man, every woman, every boy, every girl, yes even you and me.
Later knowing that all was completed
That sin and Satan would soon be defeated
Jesus, all divine, showed His humanity
“I am thirsty,” He said, displaying no vanity.
When He received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.”
His time had come, His work was accomplished.
“Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”
With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.
At that moment the world reacted
But most of humanity was too distracted
To notice the veil in the temple torn in two
From top to bottom what should we construe?
That Jesus’ death on the cross paved the way
For us to have access to God when we pray
The earth shook and the rocks split
On the day God was hit and we offered spit.
The bodies of some dead were raised to life that day
Holy people appeared in Jerusalem to convey
That Jesus is God, He is the way, Centurion and squad
Declared, “Surely He was the Son of God!”
No bones were broken
Prophecy spoken
Declared body piercing
Blood and water producing
As evening approached so did two powerful men
Perhaps they were remembering when
Jesus had spoken and challenged their thinking
Waiting to live for Him until the world was sinking
They took His body, wrapped it in a shroud
Just as Pontius Pilate had allowed
To the tomb He was taken
Christ had been forsaken.
Forsaken by man and forsaken by God
So great was the cost on the road that He trod
But great is the victory He won on Golgotha
A victory summed up in the word Maranatha
The Lord is coming soon is the word’s special meaning
Three days later, He arose and sin took a beating
He will come again soon to take those who are His
Truer words never spoken, it’s the truth, that it is
Will you be like humanity’s generations?
Too busy, distracted, for His interventions?
Don’t miss Calvary’s message of Christ’s great love
Offered to all of us who are undeserving of.
– Brian Schulenburg
April 9, 2009
The Saturday of Holy Week always makes me think of what it must have been like for the disciples to have lost all hope. Many times I’ve thought of this day as the Day When Hope Disappeared. Disciples were scattered in clusters. One was dead – a betrayer with such guilt that he hung himself. Some were alone, hiding in fear. Some were together.Was the last 3 1/2 years just an empty adventure? Was it possible that their eyes had deceived them? Was it possible that Jesus was not who He said that He was? Why hadn’t they stayed true? Why hadn’t they fought for Him? What had He done that merited death on a cross? What would become of them?Sunday morning was coming . . . but they didn’t know what Sunday would bring.What are your questions today? What are your doubts?
It may be the day when your hope is gone, but HOPE is not dead. HE is alive! And Sunday? It’s coming!