Good Friday, Tie Dye and Suffering

Good Friday is a hard day for me.  Personally, I am very much into the melancholy vibe and dwelling in the suffering.  However, that's hard to do and it's hard to explain when you have little ones.  So, Kevin and I started a new Good Friday tradition last year and had the opportunity to continue it today.  I must say . . . it's a beautiful thing.

Earlier in the week I scrounged through Goodwill looking for old linen tablecloths.  It didn't really matter if they were a bit stained.  It actually works better if they are stained a bit.  I gathered up tie dye supplies, washed up the table cloths and had a children's Bible on hand.  It was a beautiful morning of stories and questions. 

"M*" read us the story of the Last Supper.  Then she passed the Bible on to "K" for the crucifixion scripture.  We paused for questions and answers.  The conversation moved to what Jesus must have felt like while he was on the cross.  We talked about how much he loves each and every one of us. 

Then came the tie dye.  We related the rubber bands and zip ties to Christ being beaten and mocked.  He was bound to the cross by spikes.  Jesus took on the sins of the world himself.  He was stained with our shame, our guilt.  Like we dyed the fabric, Jesus was washed over with the dye of our sinfulness.  

When the pieces were all done we wrapped them up.  They will sit in the basement for three days.  On Easter morning we'll see what new life the tablecloths will have.  By their vivid colors we will be reminded what new life we have in Christ through his resurrection.  What fun it will be to pass that reminder on to someone else!

Our family has so much fun with our Good Friday Bible study and project.  On the flip side, it's really hard to talk with our little ones about Christ's death and suffering.  It is essential though.  Obviously these conversations need to be age appropriate, however, they must happen.  All too often we want to just jump into Easter morning.  The joy of the Risen Christ!  The happiness.  They relief.  The promise for us.  However, we can participate in that joy only as much as we're willing to dwell in the suffering on Good Friday.  If we skip the grief and loss on Friday then our celebration on Sunday is . . . well . . . empty.  Christ suffers with us and we must wade through the suffering on Good Friday. 

When I survey the wondrous cross
on which the Prince of glory died,
my richest gain I count but loss,
and pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
save in the death of Christ, my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them through his blood.

See, from his head, his hands, his feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,
or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
that were a present far too small.
Love so amazing, so divine,
demands my soul, my life, my all. 

This is one of my favorite Good Friday hymns.  By the time I start singing the third stanza I'm in tears.  "Sorrow and love flow mingled down."  On the cross Christ's suffering and love are intertwined.  They can't be separated.  Christ's never ending love for us means that he was willing to suffer and die for us.  In response what are we called to?  "Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all."  Amen.