This Good Friday, allow yourself to be raw and get real with Jesus as you take a personal journey alongside Him to the cross.
My Tucson church is small but mighty. They do things differently there. It’s not just a place where you show up with a smile and your Bible on Sunday mornings, it’s a way of life – a community you are a part of. There, they do raw and they do real.
And that is Good Friday – it’s raw and it’s real.
Good Friday is not about a sugar-coated image of Jesus kneeling down with a group of children surrounded by a flock of lambs. It dives right past all of the superficial Christianese and feel good-isms and down to the nitty gritty devastating core of our faith – Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross.
For the past three years, my Tucson church has put on a Good Friday event. It’s not really a service, but more of an experience, walking alongside Jesus on His journey to the cross.
The sanctuary is lit by flickering candlelight and completely transformed into stations showing the steps Jesus took on the way to Calvary.
It’s powerful. moving. heart-wrenchingly beautiful…and it is my favorite service of the year.
I moved to Colorado a year ago, but I came back to Tucson last weekend because the best part of the experience is that I get to spend hours singing alongside one of my best friends (who also happens to be the pastor’s wife and worship director in the church).
The two of us are tucked away behind shutter screens in the middle of the room as to not distract from the experience and we softly sing while people make their way through the room. Sometimes we sing a cappella, sometimes with soft strums of Laurie’s guitar.
And those moments when the songs are pierced by the sound of a hammer pounding a nail into the cross? Those are the most poignant of all.
I wanted to capture the experience for all of you. I’ve tried taking pictures before and they are just not enough. This year, I took a video. It’s still not the same as walking through it yourself. You can’t smell the sweet anointing oil or feel the impact of hammering your sin to the cross, but it’s about as close as you can get without being here.