"What's So Good About Friday?"

In the 15 years I have been writing this blog, I have rarely borrowed someone else's words. But every once in awhile someone writes something that is of such profound wisdom and adequacy that my spirit tells me, "This must be shared". This post is that kind of writing; a master stroke. It was written by Dead Hidden and then re-posted by The Biblical Man. I have also found it worthy to be re-posted. I hope you will open your hearts to receive it, and seriously contemplate what is written. It is what I have believed for a long time, and it magnifies the glory of our Lord as He so richly deserves, as we prepare to celebrate Resurrection Day!

There's a single mom in Memphis right now staring at her Walmart MoneyCard. She checked it twice. Same number both times. She checked it a third time because maybe the app was slow. It wasn't slow. There's no money. Won't be any until Monday because the banks are closed. 

Friday ... Good Friday.

Her kids want Easter baskets. The dollar store has plastic eggs for a buck fifty. She doesn't have a buck fifty. She has $2.11 and a quarter tank of gas and a shift she can't work because the office is closed for a holiday named after the day a man got nailed to lumber two thousand years ago. 

Good Friday.

What's good about it?

Some dude in a stained recliner in eastern Kentucky just checked his reloadable card, too. Same story. Direct deposit didn't hit. Won't hit til Monday. Easter is Sunday. His kids are asleep in the next room, and he;s sitting in the dark doing math that doesn't work. He's not thinking about the resurrection. He's thinking about how to explain to a seven-year-old why the Easter Bunny skipped their trailer.

And somewhere, a megachurch pastor is rehearsing his sunrise service in a building that cost fourteen million dollars. Fog machine tested. Choir mic'd. The tomb scene has better production value than most Hollywood sets.

Good Friday.

Here's what nobody told you. It probably wasn't Friday. Jesus said it Himself. Plain. No Commentary needed. "For as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's belly; so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth." -- Matthew 12:40. 

Three days. Three nights.

Count it. Friday evening to Sunday morning is not three days and three nights. It's barely two. A first grader with a calendar can see it. But nobody counts. Because nobody's supposed to count. You're supposed to nod. Sing the hymn. Eat the ham. Move on.

The Jews didn't start their day at midnight like we do. God set up time in Genesis 1. "And the evening and the morning were the first day." Evening first. Then morning. That's a day. God said so before Rome existed. Before the church calendar. Before any man in a black robe got to vote on it. Wednesday evening. That's when He was buried. Before sundown. Because Thursday was a high sabbath -- the first day of Passover -- and the body had to be in the ground before it started.

Wednesday night. Thursday night. Friday night. Three nights.

Thursday day. Friday day. Saturday day. Three days.

Saturday evening when the sabbath ended. He rose. Not Sunday morning. The women came Sunday morning and He was already gone. The tomb was already empty when they got there.  

"In the end of the sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week, came Mary Magdalene and the other Mary to see the sepulchre." -- Matthew 28:1

They didn't witness the resurrection. They witnessed the aftermath. He was already up. Already breathing. Already walking around with holes in His hands while they were still carrying spices to a body that wasn't there. 

Three days. Three nights. Wednesday to Saturday. Just like He said.

So who moved it to Friday?

Men in robes who thought they knew better than a Jewish carpenter.

Men who changed the calendar. Changed the sabbath. Changed the feast days. Decided what the dirty [their word, not mine] Jews got wrong and what Rome got right. Swapped God's math for their own and slapped the word "Good" on it.

And nobody questioned it. For centuries. Because you're not supposed to question it. You're supposed to sit in the pew and nod and eat the cracker and drink the juice and go home and not think too hard about whether any of it adds up.

It doesn't add up. 

Friday to Sunday has never been three days and three nights. Shut down the post office. And that single mom in Memphis and that dad in his recliner in Kentucky? They get to feel the weight of somebody else's tradition.

But this post isn't about a calendar. It's about what we did to the cross. [The author who reposted the original post wrote something this week, and he says he can't get it out of his head]. He's calling it Crucifix Honey because "that's what Western Christianity does every April. Takes the most violent act in human history and drizzles honey on it until it's sweet enough to swallow."

He goes on to say ...  Every April, they sweeten the cross. Package the blood. Soften the nails. Put a choir behind the screaming so it sounds like music. Crucifix honey.

He died on a garbage hill covered in flies while Jerusalem ate dinner. 

Not in a cathedral. Not in a painting. Not in the stained glass window your grandmother pointed at when you were six and told you that man loved you.

On a trash heap. Outside the city. Where they dumped dead animals. Where the dogs came at night.

That's where God died.

Naked. Bones showing through His back. Mouth so dry His tongue stuck to His jaw. Soldiers underneath Him gambling for His shirt like it was a scratch-off ticket. 

His mother stood there. Couldn't touch Him. Couldn't hold His hand. Just watched the boy she nursed in a barn choke to death on a Roman post while flies landed on what used to be His back.

And the church put a frame around it. Sanded down the wood. Took the splinters out of the cross and made it smooth enough to hang around a pretty neck.

We turned the execution of God into decoration. The Romans drove the nails. We gold-plated them. Crucifix honey.

He sweat blood in a garden because His body tried to die before they could kill Him. And we walk past it every Sunday like it's wallpaper,

He carried His own death up a hill on a back that didn't have skin on it. And we put the cross on a bumper sticker between the stick figure family and the fish.

He screamed. And we made it a holiday.

That's what Good Friday is. A holiday built on bad math and sweetened death. A day the banks close and the churches open, and everybody performs grief for a man they'll forget about by Monday. A day where a mom can't feed her kids because Rome decided centuries ago that this was the day, and nobody since has had the spine to read a calendar and say no, it wasn't.

Jesus didn't die on Friday. He died on Wednesday. And He didn't stay dead. Three days and three nights later, He walked out of that tomb on His own two feet, and the rock was moved not to let Him out, but to let us look in.

The tomb wasn't opened for Him. It was opened for us. He was already gone.

This Easter, before you drink the coffee and post the cross and sing the hymn and eat the ham -- count the days. Read what He actually said. Not what the calendar says. Not what the tradition says. What He said. 

Three days. Three nights.

The math matters. Because if He said it and it didn't happen exactly like He said it, then none of it matters. And if it happened exactly like He said it -- on a day the whole world got wrong -- then maybe the whole world got more wrong than just the date. Happy Resurrection Day! 

_______________________________________________________________________

I am aware that my post may shock and offend some Christians who have never heard nor contemplated counting the days. I remember when I first realized the discrepancy. And I did not want to ignore the questions that arose. If there was more to understand about my Lord and the facts my faith are based upon, I wanted to know it. And I cannot tell you how much my study became enhanced and broadened after I discovered what had been hidden, and  the carefully constructed mask that stole the richness of my Lord's crucifixion story. 

I did not share this post to cause controversy or confrontation, but rather with the hope that even one more person could know God's truth in the matter and celebrate [even more] the love He has for us who believe in the sacrifice of His Son for our salvation and entry into the Kingdom of Heaven. May all who read this understand God's Plan and receive the joy of it's fulfillment in Jesus's obedience. It is finished!

John 8:32    And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.  

   

    

   

 

 

 

The Lampstands in Christendom Are Dimming

The Book of Revelation is all about the revelation of Jesus Christ, which God has given us to show us how the end of the age will unfold. And in Chapter 2, we see that Jesus walks through the lampstands, which symbolize the seven churches He addresses in the Book of Revelations. These lampstand/churches are to be the source of spiritual light in a dark world. Jesus has and will be standing among them in these End Times, offering His presence and His support. 

But as we read on in Chapter 2, Jesus warns each of the seven churches that they must deal with their internal problems if they are to successfully face the external pressures that are coming. Furthermore, He warns them that if they refuse to repent of their ways, their lampstand [the church] will be removed! That should strike the heart of every Christian! From the founding of this nation, the Church and its influence have been at the root of our nation's existence. But as I have lamented far too often, I fear the Church has transitioned from a living, active body of faithful servants to an institution and business, choosing to compromise with the world, rather than stand in bold defiance against an increasingly ungodly world.

At the same time, I thankfully acknowledge that our God has always preserved a remnant unto Himself, described by a blogger who writes under the name Appolus, as "a people who have chosen Spirit over ceremony, truth over tradition, and Christ Himself over the systems that claimed His name". And this remnant, while not necessarily affiliated with a church building or denomination, have carried on the Message of Jesus to the apostate churches, pleading with them to turn away and repent for their failings. Among the accusations Jesus brings against the lampstands are 1) They've lost their first love for the Lord, each other, and lost sinners; 2) They've descended into idolatry and immorality, including sexual immorality because they've listened to Jezebel, a false prophetess; 3) They are forever starting new ventures, but never finishing anything -- they are dead in their works; 4) They have become sick but don't realize it and Jesus has stopped attending services there!

Thankfully, there is a Remnant that is still on fire for Jesus and their faith is healthy and vibrant. They have turned from a luke-warm pretense of faith in favor of an active, effective, walk with the Lord that is distinctly alive. They identify as the Church, themselves, doing the work of Jesus "as they go", trading lifeless religion for ministries that don't need to entertain and distract the masses in order to deliver the message of Christ's love and call to service.

I recall when my husband and I looked at each other in a big church that had been such a place of instruction and joy to us in the early days of our faith journey, and we realized that the Word of God we were being fed was no longer nourishing our souls or spirits. We were starving for more, and eventually began to feed ourselves through deep study in the Word, rather than being spoon-fed by pastors teaching "new paradigms" of Christianity that didn't align with what we were reading. That was 15 years or so ago, and the table Jesus prepared for us was life-sustaining and enriching. And the number of those who I've heard echo that sentiment of "feeling hungry for more" has increased dramatically. And I can't help but wonder how many lampstands have been removed from churches in that same time period.

Interestingly enough, those that find themselves leaving nominal [and/or cultural] Christianity to become part of the Remnant, are often called heretics. Yet the Remnant are the ones more interested in true discipleship, rather than maintaining membership roles. They want the reality of an authentic faith that changes lives, rather than simply paying homage to rituals and traditions. They don't want religion; they want the fire and the presence of the Holy Spirit in their lives. They don't want to be taught man-made denominational liturgies and ceremonies; they want the Truth of God's Word and to see evidence of it bearing fruit in lives. 

Sadly, the truth of our Faith is that the lampstand and Light of Christ has been extinguished and quenched in many churches. But because I know and believe that God always preserves a faithful remnant in every generation, we are not lost. There is still hope because He will not abandon us. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit will accompany us as we, the Church, made up of faithful individuals, go into the world with their message of Light, Life, and Redemption. For Christ and His message is the same today as it was to His Disciples at His First Coming ... Start where you are, and spread the Gospel to surrounding areas, ultimately to the ends of the earth. He will empower us with the Holy Spirit to fulfill our specific mission. The Lampstands are dimming, but the Light of Christ is burning brightly in the hearts of the Faithful, and the Darkness cannot put it out.

So, just as we should take heed of Jesus's warnings to the Seven Churches in the Book of Revelation, let us also hang on to the assurances and rewards to those churches He approved. As the Remnant, we will exhibit courage in the face of opposition and deprivation [which will prophetically exist]. And we will be placed in a position of honor in the Millennial Kingdom to come and receive the Crown of Life. Until then we are told to hold fast, holding on to the faith that we have. He is Coming! And I believe He is Preparing to Ride! 

Revelation 22:16-17     "I, Jesus, have sent my angel to testify to you about these things for the churches. I am the root and the descendant of David, the bright morning star. The Spirit and the Bride say, 'Come'. And let the one who hears say, 'Come'. And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price."