Several weeks ago my son, Brendan, and I traveled back to his home away from home, Guatemala, to teach in his old school. These are some of the photographs he took while down there. They are perfect for today: Good Friday: The Day of the Cross.
The journey to the top of Calvary must have been difficult. Jesus was exhausted as he carried the weapon of his demise all the way up Calvary. He’d been beaten. He’d been mocked. Yet he endured the pain of that brutal cross.
For me. For you. For the sins of the world.
Since the first good Friday, the cross has become more than a tool for execution. For me it is a reminder of forgiveness, how much I’m loved, and the tool used to redeem my brokenness. To others the cross is just art, something to look at. But as you can see from the pictures I took during my recent trip to Guatemala, even when the cross is represented artistically, it can still mean something.
Today, Good Friday, the day we celebrate Christ’s death on the cross, what does that cross mean to you?