Good Friday: Living in hope

Catch up on the daily reflections sent to our Holy Week mailing list.

Good Friday brings us to a place where the weight of the world feels painfully real.

We stand at the foot of the cross and look into the heart of human suffering – violence, rejection, injustice, grief. Then, silence. We are reminded that life, too, can confront us with moments when hope seems distant and the world feels dim.

Good Friday did not remove hope, but it reshaped and redefined it. In the place where hope felt the most absent, something miraculous took root. It isn’t the picture of hope that we see on Easter cards – bright, triumphant and dazzling. But it is the hope that remains when all else collapses. Jesus, emptied of all but love, plants hope in the soil of suffering.

Matthew 27:50 and 51 read: ‘And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split.’

In his account, Matthew helps us to glimpse the enormity of this seismic moment, when Jesus’ final breath was met with the shattering, splitting and shifting of creation.

But, if we read John’s account, in John 19:16–37, we are invited to linger. His record reflects the memory of a friend standing painfully close to the cross. John remembers the details: the final words, the last breath, the presence of Jesus’ mother as her son’s side was pierced, the unbearable nearness of grief.

He recalls Jesus looking at him, then at Mary, and entrusting them to one another. There is a profound tenderness to Jesus’ care, even in agony. It reminds us that, even when Jesus gave up his spirit, he did not give up on us.

Hope for our whole lives

At the cross, something holy unfolds. A cycle of despair that humanity could never break is finally broken. In love, Jesus bears the worst for us, so that we might know the best. True hope is being forged, making way for wholeness.

Good Friday embodies this truth: hope is not found by avoiding pain, but by discovering that God is present within it. Where do you feel a heaviness today? Where is hope difficult to see? Bring these places into the shadow of the cross.

Good Friday teaches us that hope doesn’t always shine. It bleeds and breaks. Sometimes, it hangs on a cross. Know that you are not alone. God is nearer than you imagine. Even here, where everything seems broken, God is beginning something new.

Let us pray

Lord Jesus, as I stand at the foot of your cross, give me courage to sit with what feels heavy. Strengthen my faith to trust that this is not the end. For now, as I remain in the shadow of Good Friday, let me hold onto hope that your ultimate victory has become our path to wholeness.