Where Was I On Good Friday?

You gotta feel bad for the youngest child. There's a thousand pictures of the firstborn - "hey, we've never had one of these before!" Maybe 300 or 400 of the secondborn. Possibly 30 of the final arrival. Oh, we loved him just as much. We just didn't have as many pictures of him. Probably because his brother and sister wore us out.

When we watched our family movies each Christmas, young one wouldn't stay for long. But every once in a while, he'd poke his head in and ask, "Am I in it yet?" He got a lot done while he was waiting.

Honestly, most of us look for ourselves when we look at pictures or videos. Oh, we'll moan about how we look in them, but we'll still try to find ourselves in the picture.

With Good Friday this week, I think I've found me in the Bible picture of that dark day when Jesus died that unspeakable death on the cross. A death so horrible that the word "excruciating" comes from it. The word comes from the Latin words "out of the cross."

I can identify with Mel Gibson's conclusion when he was filming the crucifixion scene for "The Passion of the Christ." When it came time for the portrayal of a Roman soldier driving the spikes into Jesus' hands, Gibson asked the actor to step aside - so his hand would be the one nailing Jesus to the cross. His explanation: "It was me who put Him on the cross. It was my sins."

And mine. "He carried our sins in His body on the tree," the Bible says (1 Peter 2:24). Beyond the historic event of the death of Christ...beyond all the religious ceremonies and symbols - what happened on that cross was something intensely personal. Because sin isn't just some universal, theoretical spiritual idea. It's about me. About every dark and dirty, prideful and hurtful, selfish and God-defying thing I've ever done. A lifetime of open rebellion against the rule of the King of heaven.

So as I review the cast of Good Friday, I've found me in the picture.

I'm Barabbas.

Here's how the Bible tells it. "It was the governor's custom at the Feast to release a prisoner chosen by the crowd. At that time they had a notorious prisoner, called Barabbas. So when the crowd had gathered, Pilate asked them, ‘Which one do you want me to release to you: Barabbas, or Jesus, who is called Christ?' (Matthew 27:15-17).

The religious leaders who wanted Jesus dead "persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus executed" (Matthew 27:20). Barabbas went free. Jesus went to the cross.

My mind imagines this man, with his face covered, watching the torture and crucifixion of Jesus from the bottom of Skull Hill. Then, when that eerie darkness set in at noon and people began to leave, I see him slowly making his way up the hill. To the foot of the cross. Now there stands Barabbas, looking up into Jesus' face, brutalized, the Bible says, beyond recognition. And the liberated prisoner chokes out these words: "Jesus, that's my cross! I'm the one who should be dying there. But because you're dying there, Jesus - I don't have to die!"

That's me. It still moves me beyond words. The punishment I deserve, Jesus took on Himself. "He was pierced for our (my!) rebellion, crushed for our (my!) sins...the Lord laid on Him the sins of us all" (Isaiah 53:5-6 - NLT). Which means you're Barabbas, too. We all are.

And there couldn't be a better time than Good Friday to make your way up Skull Hill to the foot of Jesus' cross. And to say, "Jesus, I'm the one who should die for my sins. But because you died there, I don't have to die." And then the commitment that will make the Savior your Savior - "Jesus, I'm pinning all my hopes on You. Because no one can rescue me but You. And no one - no one - loves me like You do."

You go to the cross dirty. You come away clean. You go to the cross with a death penalty. You come away with eternal life. Because of two words that change your now and change your forever.

For me. "Jesus, Good Friday was for me. And beginning today, I am Yours."