Good Friday is special for Christians everywhere. We remember the last day and death of Jesus, who trusted the Father so completely to go to the cross to save humans from the tyranny of sin, death, and evil. We also remember that is was love that kept His focus on what had to be done; love that took Him to that cross and to death.
Good Friday is also special for me. It is the day that Jesus found me....
I am not sure what happened that night in 1987. I went into the building at the invitation of a friend and I left having fallen deeply in love with a Man who would change my life. I thought I had come to watch the play, so elaborately set up on stage. But really, I was to encounter the drama not as a spectator, but as a participant.
It was Good Friday. I was a sophomore in high school struggling with teenage angst - friendships, purpose in life, where I fit in this world. I was not particularly religious. After all, I was raised in Canada, a country known for its multiculturalism not its Christianity. I received the invitation from my friend to attend an Easter Musical and since I believed it was good to go to church a couple times a year, the Easter season seemed like a good fit for that (Christmas being the other one!). I went with her expecting to see the story of Jesus’ last few days of life and his supposed raising from the dead. We would watch quietly, then clap for all the actors and go home.
That plan of mine was well on its way to being carried out when that Jesus character, having had that Last-Supper-thing with his guys, wandered into a garden to pray. As all his friends fell asleep around Him, he began to talk to this invisible God. Here is what I heard the actor on stage say that evening: “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah….Father, I am praying not only for them (the snoozing friends), but also for those who will believe in me through them...blah, blah, blah, blah…..Father, I want those you gave me to be with me, right where I am….so that your love for me might be in them...blah, blah, blah, blah.”
I am pretty sure I did not hear anymore of anything from that point on. I am sure the Judas-actor came and betrayed Jesus with a kiss. I am sure Jesus was nailed to the cross and then rose again. I am sure the pastor came up front to recap all we had just seen and to give us an “invitation” to believe in Jesus.
But for me, the whole universe stopped on that solitary figure, agonizing in prayer in a garden. All I knew was that I was no longer just watching a play about Jesus. My heart was breached and as it ruptured, the floodgates sent out such a torrent, I found myself trying to tread water in a raging storm of affection. All I knew was that in an instant is that Jesus had found me and I had fallen in love with that Man.
His prayer was the only invitation I needed. Like a person sinking in raging waters, I wanted to reach out and grab him. I wanted his life to be in me and my life to be in him. And I knew nothing else - I didn’t know the right things to believe, I didn’t even know I was a sinner - all I knew was that love compelled me to want Him.
Thus began my journey with this Jesus. I have learned many things since that beginning day of our romance - lots of facts, lots of doctrines, lots of religious opinions - but my journey began deeply rooted and grounded in this thing called love. By love, He found me...by love, He opened my heart...by love, allowed me to grab hold of Him...by love, He has never left me these 28 years. By love, I am absolutely sure of all these things.
I am so grateful for two Fridays in history!
