Today, Good Friday, around noon, we were having lunch, enjoying the day off work and school. The sun shined brightly, and children laughed across the street in the park. For a moment, standing in the sunshine as Zydeco music played, I closed my eyes and imagined the darkest day.
Not quite 2000 years ago, in another time zone, but about the same time of day, the earth fell dark as He struggled to breathe. While soldiers gambled for His cloak, the thief beside Him scoffed. For three hours, darkness deepened across the land. Then Jesus pushed against the spike driven through His feet, straining to raise Himself enough to be able to draw a breath and cry out, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?”
As the Spirit left his body, a tearing echoed in the temple as the veil ripped in half. The earth shook and graves opened. A spear pierced His side. Blood and water poured out.
In the darkest moment, the countdown had begun.
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