When I was nine, I had a theory that it always rained on Good Friday. And in my limited experience north of the Mason-Dixon line, it did rain on most Fridays before Easter. This made me believe that the earth was grieving, groaning, and remembering the world-altering death of Christ on that day. Looking up from my coloring book there at the dining room table to the cold, spring rain on our grass, I felt what I still feel today: sadness.
A feeling of melancholy, sentimental or otherwise, over the death of Christ is certainly not an emotion unique to little girls in the Midwest. Christ’s misery was deeply painful to those who were with Him on that day, and is still real to us today. In his “Homily of the Passion,” second-century bishop Melito of Sardis wondered:
What new mystery is this?
The judge is judged and remains silent;
The invisible one is seen and does not hide himself;
The incomprehensible one is comprehended and does not resist;
The unmeasurable one is measured and does not struggle;
The one beyond suffering suffers and does not avenge himself;
The immortal one dies and does not refuse death.
What new mystery is this?
We can join the bishop in his wonder at this deep and painful mystery. And it is right that we should mourn. It is right that we want to turn away from the thought of Christ crucified. It is truly painful, and it’s the pain of the world turned upside down. Immortality gasping for breath means something has gone terribly wrong.
The wrong is written on our own foreheads. Every Ash Wednesday, we remember that we are the ones who are dust and ashes, that the sin that turned the world upside down is our sin. It is my sin—my daily run-of-the-mill gossip and petty jealousy. In spite of my horror and grief when I remember Christ’s suffering, I also rise up in joyous wonder that He has taken my place.
There is a tension here. We mourn at the pain of Christ’s suffering, but we dance—and I do mean dance—because we are restored by His sacrifice. My grief can turn to celebration because, like Paul, “I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians 2:20). What a glorious realization of our freedom!
It doesn’t matter whether or not I think it should rain on Good Friday as some symbol of cosmic mourning. What matters is that on a certain day, many years ago, the sky turned black (Matthew 27:45), the world was turned upside down, and the Son of God gave Himself for us. And in spite of our sadness, we will forever rejoice.
YES! I find that when my emotions overwhelm me, I can’t help but dance. And realizing the grief and the mourning of the cross and Gods gruesome death and sacrifice I can’t help but move my body is the most solemn and weeping of ways. Though like the thankfulness and power of the resurrection, I am so gratefully and thankful God took my place. I can’t stop from moving and joy and literally dancing. Jesus died for my sins and I have been given eternal life, I am blessed and I will dance.
(ps & so many more than I could ever say)
It’s very freeing to embrace the gamut of emotions we are deluged with at times. To not cringe and cower in the face of adversity but to allow the times to do their work, Gods work in our lives. I wonder if the degree we allow the mourning to come determines the counterpart of joy.
I have been struggling with finding the joy and turned to this study to point me towards the Cross and that joy that Christ has given. My momma was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer almost 3 months ago and began chemo recently. As I watch her wither away, it is next to impossible to find joy. My momma and I had a talk the other day about the end of life and what she’s looking forward to when she dies. There was immense comfort in knowing that she loves Jesus. While the pain is real and the grieving has already begun, I can find joy in knowing there will be a reunion some day.
I am overwhelmed by God’s love for you and me. We are so undeserving, yet Christ would’ve died if I were the only person left on this world. So comforting.
So, I started this study four weeks ago, and here I am on Day 2…. the day after I started the study, my sweet Mama and I flew to see my oldest brother, who was in his last day on this earth. He, like my Daddy who had only left us three weeks earlier, suffered from Dementia. It is a difficult disease to watch, though, so while there’s so much sadness at the fact that they are no longer here with us, there is also so much more rejoicing at the fact that they are no longer suffering here on this earth in their temporary bodies. It’s interesting, but through this experience, I have learned so much about the fact that we can find joy even in the midst of our mourning. Mama and I spent two wonderful weeks with family… we had good days and bad days… but we were truly able to find joy in spending time with family who we haven’t seen much of over the years. I believe that we should all mourn when we lose someone, but if we know we’re going to see them again, we should also be able to rejoice and enjoy the time we still have here with the people we still have here. We are called to joy… it’s a part of the fruit of the Spirit… and I believe it’s a choice we’re given. Will we choose joy? Or will we choose sorrow? Today, I want to choose joy… in honor of my sweet Daddy and brother, because I believe they wouldn’t have it any other way.
This is so beautiful. Thank you for sharing.
Cheri, Thank you so much for writing this beautiful paragraph. I just wanted to let you know that it really touched me, and I even wrote down a few of your words in my physical copy of this devotional. Thank you so much for sharing.
This touched my heart today, thanks you so much for sharing. Praying for you and your family!
Thank you for sharing Cheri. God bless !
Cheri, thank you for sharing your beautiful story. I lost my grandmother to years of battling Parkinson’s Disease and my grandfather just got moved to Hospice because of his struggle with Dimentia. The pain is so deep knowing that these diseases have taken away their lives from them but I also rejoice because both individuals were faithful servant’s of Christ and I hope in the fact that both of them have/will have new bodies, minds, and faculties in Heaven. Our father is faithful, regardless of the pain and sorrow. He always rises. The son always rises.
Father open my mind to hear your words. The silence between us is deafening.
This is beautiful. :) such an Ernest payer. We were talkin in bible study about hearing God and how he often speaks in a still small voice. If your mind is wandering and wondering and not set on the things of God you might not hear him. Are there things or thoughts in your life preventing you from having a peaceful quiet might capable of hearing Gods voice? You should read the book “battlefield of the mind” by I think it’s Joyce Meyers? I can’t remember the author for sure.
Yes, it is Joyce Meyers :)
I understand ❤️
When I first looked at this study I thought it was just going to be about separate seasons of mourning and dancing. But to address the fact that in the midst of the mourning we can be dancing, that there is this tension between the two is something entirely different and it think very important.
Kim, I agree completely! What a beautiful revelation… I pray, today, that everyone can find a way to dance in the midst of mourning. That’s where our joy is made complete! Thank you for sharing your perspective. I needed it this morning!
I, too, pray that Jesus would open my mind to the Scriptures.
Me too!