Good Friday; A Rescue story

We never intended to need a rescue. We did everything right. Well, at least as right as 20- something’s can do when planning a camping trip in the middle of winter. We had maps (yes, paper maps, call me old), firewood, sleeping bags, tents, food. More food. And seriously, a camping trip in the winter in Georgia isn’t really a big deal. I mean it could be 70 degrees. Or it could snow.

We drove our poor college student cars up to the mountain campsite and made small talk with a park ranger who tried to tell us about the weather report. But we knew better. We’ll be fine we assured the worried man in the hat who gave us matches for free when he realized we had none.

And we were fine, for a bit. We built a fire, set up tents and cooked our food. And we all agreed, cold weather is awesome for camping. But then during the second night, the snow began to fall. We awoke to a beautiful blanket of white. At least it was beautiful until we tried to start a fire with our snow-covered wood. Or take down our snow-covered tents. Or walk. It was typical Georgia snow; half ice. Then, in the midst of our youthful excitement, we realized there was no way our old Toyotas were making it down that icy mountain. And we’d eaten all the food.

The reality of our situation began to settle on our minds and we began recalling lessons from our camp counselor survival skills classes. But no matter how many right things we did, the obvious became only more clear.

We were in need of a rescue.

And for independent college students certain of our outdoor survival abilities, this was a hard thing to admit. And an even harder thing to come by since it was the ’90’s and there were no cell phones.

Eventually, the kind park ranger remembered where we were and came to get us. Despite the worsening weather conditions, he backed his truck into our hilly campsite and loaded up our gear. He towed our old cars down the mountain and even gave us hot chocolate and donuts all while singing country and western songs at the top of his lungs. And never once did he say I told you so.

All these years later, it still remains the sweetest rescue story in my memory.

And so on this Good Friday, as we fix our eyes on a faraway hill and try to imagine Jesus hanging on a cross for us, it is this long ago memory of undeserved rescue that settles in my mind.

“And they will be my people and I will be their God. I will make an everlasting covenant with them … and I will never stop doing good to them.” The word of the Lord spoken through the prophet Jeremiah generations before Jesus would walk that dusty road to Golgatha. It was a covenant God’s people did not deserve. They had turned their eyes and bowed down to the idols of their own power and wealth. They were sure they knew how to do all the things right. “We’ve got this,” they told the Creator of the universe over and over again. “We don’t need to be rescued. “

Like college students confident in their survival skills, they pushed on with their own agendas despite the warnings. The people always thought they knew what the good God promised should look like. And they thought they could create it on their own. God promised good, they reasoned; so we’ll make things good.

And for generations, they pressed on; desperate to create enough good, but unable to save themselves. And oh, how I see my own heart reflected in all their striving.

A rescue we don’t deserve. That’s what this Good Friday is. A rescue that turns our world upside down. It’s the One who knew from the beginning how it was all going to go coming to get the ones who thought they had it all figured out.

It’s the Savior of the world riding into a city of people and weeping over how he loves them and how they can’t see it.

It’s God keeping his promise, not just to the Israelites of days gone by but to you and to me. “I will never stop doing good to them”. But with our earthbound eyes, we often see only the darkness.

The Savior hanging on a cross made of wood; His hands pinned to its side; blood running down his beaten body and a crown of thorns upon his head.

“The punishment that brought us peace was upon him.” And we watch and wonder how any good could possibly come from this.

He died. The one who came to get us died. Darkness covered the earth, the ground shook. The one they called King of the Jews could not even save himself. Had God forgotten what he said? How could any good come from this?

Blinded eyes watch as God takes every sin from the apple eaten in the garden to the sin you and I committed a moment ago and heaps it upon himself because he knows it is the only way to get us back home. And then our God; our good God descends into the darkness so we’ll never have to wonder if he understands.

At the foot of the cross, the only thing we can know for sure is this. Jesus knew we’d stand in dark places. He knew our own hearts would be wrenched in two with the pain of this world. He knew we’d question if he’d ever breathed the air of loneliness until his lungs ached. And he knew we wouldn’t believe it if he couldn’t get us close to him.

This was the only way the rescue could work.

So he came and he died the lowliest of deaths for a people who had no idea that Sunday would ever come. He loaded up our stuff, piled it on his back, and walked a road that we could never walk. And on the darkest of days, he proclaimed, It is finished.

We could come home, now.

The darkness doesn’t win, but it does exist. And when we’re in it, when life pushes hard against us and we are tempted to look around and think our job is to create the light; to bring the good. We need only return to the foot of the cross.

My friends, we serve a God who declares that the way up is down, the last shall be first, the humble shall be exalted, the weak made strong and in his presence even the darkness of this day shall be declared good.

Alleluia, Amen.