The Contradiction of Good Friday

Peaceful, content. Two words that rarely describe me. Late Friday afternoon I had the joy of feeling both as I drove, alone, toward Colorado Springs. I'd had a kid-filled day. My own. My nephew. And a museum-full at the Wildlife Experience place. Now, I was heading toward the Air Force Academy where I was going to visit the chapel for the Good Friday service. The Air Force Academy Chapel is renown as an architectural beauty and I was looking forward to seeing it for the first time on this solemn occasion.

As I approached from across the courtyard, the chapel's spires rose up against the backdrop of the Rocky Mountains. Entering, I literally gasped. Its beauty took my breath away. Triangular panels of stained glass softly lit the inside. Having arrived early, I found a seat in the pew and took in my surroundings. And then it hit me, the contrast of the images around me. Separating the stained glass were cold, metallic pieces. And the cross hanging above the alter? Also cold and metallic. In fact, the "arms" of the cross resembled the wings or propeller of a plane. And the bottom of the cross came to almost a point. A sharp point like that of a sword or a dagger. An uncomfortable juxtaposition, the beauty combined with the violence.

But this is the contradiction of our faith, and Good Friday in particular. The terrible irony of calling this day "Good." The day Christ took our sin, our judgment, and our punishment. The day he was betrayed, crucified, and died the most horrible death imaginable. The day he died to redeem us, to grant us his grace, to offer us the ultimate peace.