Memorials

911 memorial, a photo by bobmendo on Flickr.

Today is called "Good Friday" by many. It's the anniversary of the death of the founder of the messianic movement, Y'shua of Nazareth. According to the record, found in the Brit Chadasha, Y'shua had a Passover meal with his friends, colleagues and the future leaders of the movement. That was on a Thursday.

After a seriously flawed kangaroo court held during the night, contrary to all true Jewish justice, Y'shua was found guilty and delivered to the Roman government for sentencing. His sentence? Death by crucifixion.

That crucifixion took place on the Friday of what would later be labeled "Holy Week." They buried him in a new sepulcher owned by a certain Joseph from Arimethea. Then the Sabbath came.

On Sunday, the third day, Y'shua rose from the dead. He was seen by dozens, even hundreds of Jewish people over the next 6 weeks. A week before Sh'vuot, he ascended into heaven before them all.

Ever since then, the community of faith, now which is labeled the Church, has been calling this day "Good Friday." Why? It's the day the most innocent men of all time was unjustly executed on a Roman cross. What is good about that?

Ah, fine question. That which makes this day so good is that the death of Messiah allows God to forgive us for the sins we have committed against him. His death opened the door for our entry into heaven. It's good because we can now be reconciled with the Father. That's something to shout about.

The other day I walked in Los Angeles past this memorial to the dead who were killed on 9/11/01 (with global apologies to the world who would have labeled that day 11/9/01). The flag unfurled above me into the never-ending sky. It was a deeply moving single strand of expression. I remembered where I was in Sydney when I heard the news and stayed up all night to watch the continuing coverage by the media.

Memorials make sense. History is filled with what might look to outsiders like littering or undue emotional expression. But that day in LA, and today in Sydney, I'm pondering again what really matters in life, and what I want to memorialize in my life. I want to remember the victims in the terrorist attack of 9/11.

More importantly to me, I want to remember Y'shua, or as others label him Jesus Christ. He died on that Good Friday to give me eternal life. How can I not stop and say 'thanks!'? He is worthy of all memorials built to him. Mostly he is worthy of my life.

And yours.