Today is Good Friday, the day the Christian church remembers that Christ died on the cross for our sins. The entire week is meant to be honored, remembered as holy for it commemorates our Savior’s final week on Earth. I wanted to come into Easter weekend with my heart centered, my mind focused on the One who gave so much for me. Instead I have spent this week ripping and running from one thing to the other. I went out of town last weekend, came back and was home for a day and a half before going out of town again. Came home late on Tuesday night, spoke to some college students on Wednesday night, and then last night helped a friend navigate some things he is facing right now. None of these things are bad but in all this running, in all this craziness I have forgotten. I have left no room to remember or honor this week, instead I forget.
I forget that last night should have marked a remembering of the night that was not like any other night. The night He instituted the Lord’s Supper, gave us the Eucharist and commanded us to remember: Do this in remembrance of me
I forget that last night He agonized in a garden about the path that lay in front of Him, asking that the cup be allowed to pass from Him, knowing there was no other way the story could end.
I forget that today He was beaten with the fists of those who sought to exercise their perceived power over Him.
I forget that today He was ordered whipped with a nail tipped rope that tore off pieces of His skin with every lash.
I forget that today they fashioned a crown of thorns for His head and beat him some more as they mocked Him in false worship.
I forget that today they made Him carry a cross too heavy to bear on a back too bruised to handle it.
I forget that today they took nails and bore them into His hands and feet.
I forget that He was stretched wide and, though in pain I cannot begin to image, He refused the wine dipped in myrrh that might have numbed the pain; He would not numb feeling the pain of my redemption.
I forget that today, as He hung on that cross, in His darkest moment, He felt the Father’s abandonment and cried out why have You forsaken me.
I forget that with one final sip of bitter tasting wine HE.GAVE.HIS.LIFE.FOR.ME!
My heart grieves to think of how easy it is for me to forget. But this morning I take time to remember. I take the time to offer to Him my gratitude for the sacrifice He made for me. This morning I will take the Eucharist and I will remember. And as I remember I will give thanks for the gift given for me over 2000 years ago. I will give thanks and I will breathe in the hope, the freedom, and the redemption He offers me. It is Good Friday today and I will not forget.