Good Friday
Condemned Christ Cries from the Cross
Meditate on these Words from Scripture
“At first his disciples did not understand all this. Only after Jesus was glorified did they realize that these things had been written about him and that these things had been done to him.”
John 12:16 (NIV)
Reflection
In 1963, Buddhist monks in South Vietnam responded to profound injustice with a powerful, peaceful protest. Some even gave their lives in shocking acts of self-sacrifice, lighting themselves on fire to make their pain visible to the world. It’s still debated whether those actions made a difference—but they did raise a haunting question: how can death ever bring hope to the living?
That same question must have echoed in the hearts of Jesus' disciples on Good Friday. For three years, they followed a man who healed the sick, challenged authority, and stirred hope like no one before. Jesus seemed invincible—until he wasn’t. As they watched him suffer and die, all their dreams must have felt crushed under the weight of a Roman cross.
In their eyes, the story was over.
We hear the word "cross" today and think of church buildings, necklaces, and symbols of hope—but back then, it only meant loss, shame, and defeat. It was Roman propaganda meant to eliminate hope. If you want to meditate on what Jesus experienced, we have an article here. The pain was real. The disappointment was total. And yet, hidden in that darkest moment was something the disciples couldn’t yet see: a promise still standing.
John 12:16 reminds us that sometimes, we can only understand things after they’ve happened.
“…the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and the teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles, who will mock him and spit on him, flog him, and kill him. Three days later he will rise.” (Mark 10:33b-34)
Jesus had told his followers what was coming—his suffering, death, and ultimately, his resurrection. But pain has a way of drowning out promises. In the moment, all they saw was the end. Only later did they realize it was the beginning.
This isn’t a call to ignore grief or pretend everything’s fine. It’s an invitation to hold onto God’s promises, especially when everything feels lost. Jesus didn’t avoid suffering—he walked straight into it because he knew it wouldn’t be the end. His death was a protest against every form of darkness—sin, injustice, and death itself. And he faced it all, knowing it wouldn’t have the final word.
Resurrection didn’t erase the pain, but it transformed it. That’s the hope we carry now: that even when disappointment feels absolute, God’s promises are still alive—and he’s not done yet.
Take with You
In Mark 10:37, after Jesus tells his disciples about the suffering and death he’s about to face, James and John come to him with a bold request: “Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory.” They’re so focused on what they want Jesus to be—a powerful ruler—that they completely miss what he just said about where he’s actually going: the Cross.
Disappointment often comes when we expect God to move in ways that match our plans, not his. James and John assumed glory meant power and position, but Jesus had just described glory as suffering and sacrifice. How often do we mix up our ideas with what we think are God’s promises?
What makes this story even more striking is that James and John, hand-picked by Jesus as two of the twelve Apostles, still got caught up in comparing and positioning. When we let our expectations drive our faith, we risk missing the beauty of where God has already placed us. We overlook the privilege of our perspective.
And here’s the powerful twist: when Jesus was finally lifted in his “glory” on the Cross, the ones at his right and left weren’t disciples—they were two rebels. They didn’t ask for those seats. They didn’t earn them. But even in that place of pain and punishment, they found themselves next to Grace.
So even if you feel like everything’s fallen apart like you're stuck in a place you never would’ve chosen, know this: you’re not out of position. Jesus is near. And even on a cross, grace is within reach.