Here’s the $2 billion-dollar question: What makes Good Friday good?

As a child, I loved sleepovers at my Nanna & Nonno's house, although I also felt a quiet unease. Being devout Italian Catholics, they had adorned every room with a crucifix. These were no pastiche pastels—they were full-bodied figures nailed to wooden crosses. 

As I lay in bed trying to fall asleep, I would eye the bloody spectacle warily in the darkness — or was it eyeing me? Is this what fostered my fear of darkness? Seeking refuge in my sister’s room was out of the question, for a great statue of Mary loomed in the hallway, and the prospect of passing that in the darkness was far worse. I would huddle beneath the blankets and eventually fall asleep.

Even now, I must admit that I find the image of Christ on the cross a little unsettling. The empty cross is easy enough to digest—the shrill cry ‘He is risen!’ has a true and triumphant ring to it—but Christ crucified is, as the apostle Paul put it, ‘a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles’ (1 Cor 1:23). 

Yet Paul also proclaimed this as the forma minima of the Christian message—that to which it could be reduced no further: Christ crucified.

Unsettling, foolish, offensive at it is, the crucifixion of Jesus Christ was—and is—history’s most significant event.

It would seem that the event also has much contemporary significance, given that two thousand years later we still hold a public holiday to commemorate it. A recent article in the Financial Review estimated that the economical cost to hold a public holiday is about two billion dollars.

So then, here’s the two billion dollar question: What makes Good Friday good? 

The day signified by the battered, beaten, and bloodied body of an innocent young man on a cross—a Roman instrument of torture, humiliation, and death—what could possibly earn it the moniker ‘Good’?

Peaches are good.

Walks on the beach are good.

The smell of freshly baked bread is good.

The crucifixion of Christ was horrible.

Wasn’t it?

Well yes, but there’s more going on here than my childhood mind could comprehend as it grappled with the spectacle on the bedroom wall. 

It was more than what the stricken mother of Jesus, the despairing disciples, and the cocky yet suddenly cautious Roman centurion could even begin to comprehend as they witnessed it firsthand at the death-riddled grounds of Golgotha.

It was more than Satan himself could comprehend.

You see, when Jesus breathed the words, "It is finished," on a cross outside Jerusalem, the powers that be revelled in a seemingly unambiguous victory. 

The man who had claimed to be the Messiah—the coming king to whom the whole earth would bow in allegiance—hung safely and securely dead over the very city which he had just committed the treasonous act of riding into on a donkey (no less than a deliberate and provocative declaration of kingship!—Zech 9:9). 

He wasn't the first and he wouldn't be the last. From Tiberius Caesar’s perspective at least, this particular uprising was quelled quickly and quietly.

Or was it? 

There were immediate signs that this Messiah's death was not solito negotium (business as usual), nor was it an unambiguous victory. For one, a thick darkness settled over the land lasting three hours, the earth had shaken and rocks split open, tombs had spewed their inhabitant forth and ghosts were seen lurking in the streets. 

The Jewish temple sent reports that the massive curtain separating the altar from the ark of the covenant (on which God's presence was said to rest on the wings of cherubim), had supernaturally torn in two.

That's not the worst of it either. The very Roman centurion who participated in the execution and then witnessed these other-worldly events suddenly exclaimed, "Truly this man was the Son of God!" (Matt 27:54). 

Satan, it seemed, had overplayed his hand. 

For Jesus of Nazareth was not just another human Messiah whose rebellion was routed in a routine Roman crucifixion. As the centurion himself testified, he was the Son of God. He was also God the Son: Jesus was God incarnate. 

You can't kill God on a cross. You can't kill God at all. 

So while evil was relishing in a sure-fire victory, holding nothing back, dishing out all the human cruelty it could muster, God was absorbing it into Himself, rendering it defeated, no longer able to hold humanity under its sovereign rule of sin and death. 

Sin thus stripped of its power could no longer separate God from His creation.

Rather than a victory, evil suffered a crushing defeat. 

It is finished indeed.

In God's topsy-turvy kingdom, the cross, hitherto an instrument of death, became an instrument of life, as God's love for the world became manifest in His own body broken for the world. 

And so on Good Friday, we celebrate a good God. 

A good God who threw Himself in front of the cosmic train of our own self-destruction, to rescue us from the mess and the mission of the fallen world we live in. 

A good God who allowed Himself to be nailed to a cross on behalf of us all, removing the power of sin and death from our lives.

A good God who invites us to join Him in this revolution, as a redeemed humanity declaring Jesus as our Lord, Saviour, Judge, and King.  

A good God, who through his sacrifice offers us eternal life.

A good God who "so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him, shall no perish, but have eternal life" (John 3:16). 

This is what makes Good Friday good: it’s the day God saved the world from death—for good!

And for today, this is not simply my own two bob’s worth as usual—it's a nationally celebrated two billion’s worth! 

Picture: The 17th-century painting Christ Crucified by Diego Velázquez, held by the Museo del Prado in Madrid

The Gospel Jesus Preached: The Present Availability of the Kingdom of God

When you hear the word 'Gospel', what do you think?

I'm betting that you've heard something like this: Jesus died for your sins so you could go to heaven after you die.

It's the classic Romans 1 Gospel: warn 'em of God's wrath then tell them how to dodge it. 

Set 'em on fire then offer a bucket of water. 

The staple diet of nineteenth and twentieth-century evangelism. 

It's not that that statement is untrue, it's just not the whole truth, or even the main part of the truth. 

In the words of John Mark Comer, "It's not less than that, but it's so much more!"

Or maybe you're more used to hearing the Matthew 25 least-of-these A.K.A the social justice gospel. Just clothe and feed the poor, visit the prisoners, that kind of thing. Just don't mention God, or Jesus, or salvation. 

Chances are you've heard mixes of all the above. I doubt any church would teach all one or the other. But it does beg the question - what is the Gospel? 

The word 'gospel' means 'good news', and the good news that Jesus himself shared was both much more simple and much more profound than what you hear from many church pulpits today. 

When Jesus walked the shores of Galilee preaching the Gospel, he wasn't saving souls for heaven, he was bringing heaven to souls. 

Here are some of the records we have of Jesus preaching the Gospel: 

• Mark 1:15 "The time is fulfilled, the kingdom of God is at hand."
• Luke 17:21 "The kingdom of God is within you."
• Matthew 4:17 "Repent, for the kingdom of Heaven has come near."

As Dallas Willard put it, Jesus' gospel was about the present availability of the kingdom of God.

Jesus' Gospel proclamation was accompanied by power. When he announced the present availability of the kingdom of the heavens, it came bursting into the present reality, bringing healing, wholeness, restoration and peace.

The kingdom of God, or, the kingdom of heaven as it's sometimes referred to, is simply the place where God is. As Graeme Goldsworthy puts it: God's people, in God's place, living under God's rule. 

It's not just a future reality, but a present one also. 

You see it's not so much that Jesus is the way to God, but that through Jesus, God comes to us. 

When Jesus sent out the seventy-two disciples, he told them to preach this same Gospel. Specifically he said: "Heal the sick who are there and tell them that 'the kingdom of God has come near to you'" (Luke 10:9). 

The kingdom of God manifests when heaven intersects earth. The disciples excitedly brought back reports of lives transformed. 

By contrast, many street-preachers today stick to selling death insurance. 

The sure-tried fire-and-water method: convict them of their sin and God's wrath, then douse them in a cold bucket of the sinner's prayer and let 'em off the hook. Probably never see them again.

I wonder if a better starting point for preaching the Gospel today would be talking about the availability of God's presence and power like Jesus did?

I mean, if it was good enough for the Son of God...

I wonder if people would be more attracted to a God who loves them and longs to be present with them, rather than a God who is angry with them. 

I wonder if people would be more drawn to the God whose heart is for the renewal and redemption of the entire cosmos, rather than only that of individual sinners?

I wonder if they'd be more interested in hearing about God's coming new creation project and how we can enjoy everlasting life there for all eternity, rather than simply a disembodied life in heaven? (read my last BLOG "What Happens After We Die? New Creation as 'Life After' Life After Death").

I wonder if we simply brought people to a place where they could "taste and see that the Lord is good," as the Psalmist writes, and let God do more of the convincing and convicting and judging (Psalm 34:8)?

God is in the business of changing hearts and transforming people for the good, and his kingdom is presently available to those who whole-heartedly seek after it.

As always though, it's just my two-bob worth.

What Happens After We Die? New Creation As ‘Life After’ Life After Death

I was about 8 or 9 years old when Uncle Jack passed away. He wasn’t really my uncle, but in small towns in country Victoria that’s how it goes with close family friends. I can only describe him through the perceptions of a nine-year-old—kind, warm, encouraging. He called me “sport” and always spoke to me even though there were other adults in the room. I overheard him talking to my step-father one day, and his words have always stuck with me: “He could do anything he sets his mind to that kid, anything.” My chest expanded three inches on the spot. 

The family had an open casket funeral for Uncle Jack, and I remember seeing his body and feeling awe-struck by how utterly devoid of his presence it was. It wasn’t like he was asleep; he was simply ... gone. The part that made him him was no longer there. It was like an empty shell. 

The question I asked therefore was not, “why did he die?” but simply “where did he go?”

My step-father gave me a quizzical glance and put his hand on my shoulder, “he’s passed on son.”

“Yes, but where to?” 

A few glances went around the room, and it dawned on me that my curiosity was mistimed. I was meant to be sad, but I wasn’t, not really. I was absolutely certain, looking at his body. that he wasn’t “dead”, just “gone somewhere else.” 

Or rather, relocated.

The scene has stuck with me throughout the years on my journey through faith to atheism and back again. Strictly speaking, it probably kept me agnostic rather than full blown atheist. If in death something in us is relocated, then there’s somewhere else to which we go, and if that's the case, there's probably someone or something in charge of that place. 

In my recent BLOG I shared a bit of my journey back to Christ through my daughter’s own curiosity about death, but here I want to answer a different question: what happens after we die?

Jesus was crucified along with two criminals. Whilst one was hurling abuse at him ("Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!" Luke 23:39); the other said simply: "Jesus, remember me when You come into Your Kingdom!" And Jesus replied, "Truly I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise" (Luke 23:43).

The word 'pardes' in the Old Testament's language of Hebrew roughly meant 'garden'. Translated as 'park' (Ecc 2:5), 'forest' (Neh 2:8), and 'orchard' (Song of Solomon 4:13). In the Greek translation of the Old Testament used in Jesus' day (called The Septuagint) the word paradeisos was used for the Garden of Eden. So paradise was used as a euphemism for resting in God's presence. 

Jesus told the criminal that it would be THAT DAY, that he would be in paradise, not some distant time in the future. The "you" being the part that survives death, the part of my Uncle Jack that was missing at his funeral. Jesus said it goes somewhere immediately, and not alone, but with him. 

So for believers in Christ, death is simply a relocation to God's presence with Jesus.

The apostle Paul expected to be in Christ's presence immediately upon his death, and he considered the prospect better than life.

Writing from an Ephesian prison he says, "For if we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's" (Romans 14:8). And in his letter to the Philippians: "For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labour to me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account." (Phil 1:21-24).  

Paul did not expect to simply cease from existence; nor did he expect to be unconscious or delayed somehow from Christ. 

Paul knew that Jesus' open arms immediately awaited him. 

So after we die, whilst our bodies 'sleep', our disembodied consciousness is relocated to the presence of Jesus. I guess you could say, "we go to heaven."

But the way some talk about heaven can be quite misleading, because this is not the final stop.

This is life after death, but then there is (as N.T Wright calls it), "life after life after death." (Surprised By Hope - N.T Wright).

There is more to come. Something more that the simple phrase "going to heaven" can possibly contain. 

You see, we do go to heaven, but only until heaven comes to earth. 

But that doesn't do it justice either, because the concepts of heaven and earth are radically redefined in the final reality as New Creation. 

The heart of the gospel is that through Jesus the whole world is being set right and ultimate justice will come. The final end-state will a merging together of heaven and earth into what the Bible calls "a new heaven and a new earth." New Creation. A reality that began with Jesus and grows as each new believer is welcomed into the family of God. As Paul states (2 Cor 5:17): "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come! The old has gone, the new is here!" 

Even though we only in part experience that new creation reality in the present time, there will come a day when Jesus will bring this new reality in all its glorious fullness. A reality which he summarises as death being swallowed up in victory.

"The dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality" (1 Cor 15:52-53). 

Here's where we get to life after life after death. 

When Jesus brings this ultimate New Creation our consciousness will again become embodied. Our bodies will be raised up, levelled up as it were, made anew - immortal, whole, an amalgamation of flesh and spirit: Humanity 2.0. Geared for immortal existence in God's presence.

Our final state is not some disembodied soul wandering about the clouds of heaven, it's both a physical and spiritual existence in the New Creation.

There the distinction between the physical and spiritual has disappeared, evil no longer exists, and we will dwell with God (and each other) forever. 

This is the long-awaited for hope of the Old Testament, fulfilled in Christ: "Look! I am creating a new heavens and a new earth, and no one will even think about the old ones anymore. Be glad; rejoice forever in my creation!" (Isaiah 65:17-18).

And it is the final reality described in the final chapters of the Bible, as a long-awaited union between God and his beloved people.

"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared... I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, "Look! God's throne is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or dying or sorrow or pain. All these things are gone forever" (Rev 21:1, 3-4).

The New Creation is described in terms of perfection: a place where we will rest from our toil, in a perfect new earth, with perfect bodies in a world free of brokenness and sin.

Salvation then, is not just about us humans, it's about the whole creation.

It is a reality for which creation itself longs for. In Romans 8:21-22 Paul says, "creation itself will be set free from from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.
For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now."

What of those who opt out?

The Bible also talks about unbelievers being raised up and embodied in the final day, yet without having been made a new creation in Christ by accepting His atoning sacrifice on the cross, they will not be able to enter the New Creation. Without Jesus as their Lord and Saviour, they will face God's judgement on their own terms. The Bible uses many metaphors to try to describe the prospect of this reality, usually with words like hell, ghenna, the pit etc., but the idea is that of an existence without God - an honouring of the terms they've chosen to live by in this life. I tremble to think of such an experience. But if you were to ask most atheists the idea probably wouldn't bother them much, because they don't know God anyway (nor do they wish to). 

But if the idea does bother you, consider this - Jesus opens his arms to you to offer the alternative. 

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God" (John 3:16-18).

So when life gets difficult, I remind myself of how temporary and fleeting our current life is. 

One day we will live in perfect relationship with the world, with others, with God, and with ourselves. 

We will meet God face to face and enjoy eternal fellowship with others.

I look forward to meeting Uncle Jack again and thanking him for his prophetic words over my life.

I look forward to endless possibilities, limitless knowledge, everlasting joy.

I look forward to enjoying the creation in all its freedom and fullness.

What do you look forward to? What will your eternal reality be? 

The way I see it, you can either have more of the same if you live without Christ, or immeasurably more than you could think, ask or imagine if you live with Him.

Choose Jesus, choose life, choose New Creation, choose limitless possibilities.

As always though, it's just my two-bob worth.

 

My Testimony: How Freud, Penny Lane, & My Seven Year Old Daughter Led Me Back To God.

 

My daughter Violet was seven years old when Penny Lane died. Penny was our beloved Golden Retriever (and yes, she was named after the Beatles’ song). While grieving, Violet became intensely interested in the question of what happens after death. It didn’t make sense to her, that our beloved Penny Lane, who had been around since before she was born, was suddenly and simply… gone. 

I had been wrestling with God for seven years up at that point. Having walked away from my faith after a terrible experience at church. I had then studied World Religions. Philosophy and Anthropology at university, searching for the answer to what was essentially my daughter's question writ large - is there something more than physical life? Is there a God?

But fast forward seven years, when my daughter asked me that question my focus shifted from a concern for truth to a concern for comfort. She was grieving and needed hope. Ironically, although I wasn’t a believer myself, you might say my concern was pastoral. I sifted through all the religious possibilities - Hindu, Buddhist, Sikh, Islam, and settled on Christianity because there lay the most hope. 

“People go to heaven,” I said, “to be with Jesus.” 

“Oh. Okay then.” She replied and went off to play.

I didn't let go of the question quite so easily however ... it got me thinking. 

Freud said, in Future of an Illusion, that he envied the believer for the freedom that their belief afforded them; the practical benefits of believing in a benevolent Father God who providentially orders their lives for the good. The hope of life after death and the comfort of knowing that although the world is full of injustice, it will ultimately be set right by God. 

I must admit, since entering the ministry myself, I have pondered this question more than once: do people on the inside of the faith have as high a view of Christianity as an atheist like Freud?

Although he ultimately thought belief in God a delusion, he recognised the deficit caused by a lack of belief. He had what I call faith envy. 

I’d had faith envy too. 

After I left the church, I seemed to come across Christians everywhere: in the music community, in my university, at the pub. They seemed to me to possess a confidence and self-assurance that I lacked. 

Anyway, back to my daughter's question - "What happens after you die?"

Freud's diagnosis was that Christians greatly benefited from their delusion. I figured the benefits would be real whether Christianity was true or not.

What if I took my family to church so they could enjoy those benefits? Did it really matter what I personally believed? 

I mean, I loathed sport, but still trekked around town every Saturday morning taking the kids here, there, and everywhere because I recognised it was good for them. Was church really that different?

So we started going to church again. 

I insisted on sitting up the back for a quick get-away. During the services I mostly crossed my arms and tried to ignore what was being said. As far as I was concerned, I’d already settled the issue and I lacked the energy to have my cage rattled again.

But a curious thing happened. 

Over the course of a few months, I’m not sure whether I got tired of the energy required to keep my walls up, or whether it was something else, but I began to simply suspend my disbelief.

As I did so I began to feel less assured of my previous convictions. I began to realise just how shaky the ground was on which I was standing. 

The church I had left had serious problems, but was it possible I had thrown out the baby with the bathwater? Was it possible that God really did exist? 

If not, what was this stirring within me, responding to worship and the Word of God being preached?

My original idea of joining the community was working - the children had made friends and the church was welcoming.

My plan to remain aloof and detached was failing.

My heart began to feel strangely stirred by the music, vaguely warmed by the Word. 

This provoked my intelligence into a three-month obsessive pursuit of “the truth”. I pursued God the way I’d been taught in my Arts degree, like an object to be studied, using logic and reason and science. My mind desperately trying to catch up with my heart. To understand, catalogue, illuminate.

I spent each night after work researching, reading Christian apologetics, watching YouTube videos, sorting and sifting through various views and perspectives. 

But I reached an impasse — my mind could only take me so far. 

You can argue eloquently for or against the existence of God easily enough, it turns out. Reaching a conclusion requires something else.

I’d been playing a solo gig in town one night, performing Aussie classics in a pub, singing and playing guitar on autopilot as my mind wrestled with the issues, the reasons for and against, the proofs, the counter arguments. 

I was over it. When I got home, exhausted, in the middle of the night, something inside me broke.

I fell to my knees and silently cried out to God to do what I couldn’t - to make himself known to me. If there were words to my prayer they might have been, “I believe! Help my unbelief!”  

The response was both instantaneous and indescribable. I lacked the Christian conditioning to say that I was filled with the Holy Spirit. 

What I did say at the time was that God’s presence had suddenly filled the room and made me different. 

I described it to a friend like this: "I felt like I was taken apart and put back together again." Something flowing, surging, wave after wave going through me. Jesus' own words resonated deeply with my experience: “Whoever believes in me, as the Scriptures have said, out of his heart shall flow rivers of living water” (John 7:38). 

The experience aside however, the point is, I knew in that moment that God is real, that Jesus is Lord and that the Holy Spirit means business to those who seek.

My seven-year hiatus was over. I was back. I wept with joy. Next the only reasonable words I could think of came to my lips: “God, I am yours.”

All this from my daughter asking a simple question.

It’s been the ride of my life, honestly, with more twists and turns in the eight years following that event than in the thirty something preceding it. I’ve been stretched and challenged in more ways than I could imagine, but through it all, with the very real peace, joy, and freedom from God that Freud envied. 

It turns out Freud was correct about the benefits of the Christian faith, delusion or not.

I want to encourage you therefore, to listen to those small voices that come along, whether it be from a child or something else. 

God is always speaking to you. His voice never stops speaking. In Psalm 19 it says that it goes out to all the earth, His words to the ends of the world.

The seemingly disparate threads of your life are not as accidental as they seem. 

For me, a deceased pet, the curiosity of a child, and the dark musings of an atheist all led me back to God.

I know what you’re thinking — do I really believe God used Freud, my daughter, and my pet dog to get me back into church?

Well there is biblical precedent for God using odd ways to speak to people. I mean, He spoke through a donkey to Balaam the Prophet. If He can use a donkey...

Who or what is God using to speak to you? To nudge you? 

Follow the inquiry, ask the hard questions, step out of your comfort zone. 

It might be that you feel disconnected from church like I did, disconnected from your beliefs. But He never disconnects from you. In Psalm 139 the writer says that God knows every day of your life before one of them comes to be. He's got his finger on the pulse.   

Pursue God and dare to believe. 

For He is as real as your next breath and has been pursuing you since the day you were born.

Why? Well simply because He loves you. He made you, He rejoices over you, and He wants you to come home. 

Life with your Creator God is unbeatable, His presence inimitable.

Why live without?

But as always, it’s just my two-bob worth.

"Bless the Lord, O my soul,

and forget not all his benefits,

who forgives all your iniquity, 

who heals all your diseases, 

who redeems your life from the pit,

who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,

and satisfies you with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's." Psalm 103:1-5.