It’s one of the most haunting moments in all of scripture. Hanging on the cross, battered and alone, Jesus cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46). For centuries, Christians have returned to these words every Good Friday, letting their weight settle in our bones. Why would God the Father, who had always delighted in His Son, turn His face away in Christ’s darkest hour?
The answer, as old as the gospel itself, is written in love and sorrow. It’s because of us. Because of sin. And because God’s love is so fierce, He would rather turn away from His perfect Son than turn away from you.
From the very beginning, the story of humanity has been marked by separation. In the garden, Adam and Eve walked with God. But when sin entered the world, so did a rift, a gulf that no good deed or religious ritual could bridge. “Your iniquities have made a separation between you and your God,” Isaiah wrote, “and your sins have hidden His face from you so that He does not hear” (Isaiah 59:2).
That’s the backdrop for Calvary. Sin isn’t just bad behavior; it’s a wall, a chasm, a cosmic betrayal. Left on our own, we’re lost. But Good Friday is the day when God tore down that wall, even though it broke His own heart.
Paul calls what happened on the cross “the great exchange.” “God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21). In that moment, Jesus absorbed the full weight of our guilt, our shame, our rebellion. All of it.
God is holy, so pure and perfect that He can’t look on sin without judgment. For Jesus to stand in our place, to bear our punishment, meant that He had to experience the horror of separation from the Father. The One who had always known perfect love suddenly tasted the agony of abandonment. He did it so that we never have to.
It’s tempting to skip over the darkness of Good Friday and race toward the joy of Easter. But if we miss the cross, we miss the love that changes everything. “But God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). Not when we were cleaned up. Not when we had it all together. Right in the middle of our mess.
Jesus didn’t just die for humanity in the abstract; He died for you, personally. He faced the Father’s silence so you could hear God’s welcome. He endured rejection so you could know acceptance. In the words of the prophet Isaiah, “He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5).
Good Friday invites us to look honestly at our sin, not to wallow in shame, but to marvel at grace. The cross says that you’re more sinful than you ever dared admit, but more loved than you ever dared hope. It’s not about what you can do for God; it’s about what He has done for you, at infinite cost.
If you’ve never trusted Jesus, His arms are open, even now. The separation that sin brought can be healed in a moment. All you have to do is turn and trust. “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Romans 10:13).
Maybe today you feel abandoned or unworthy. Maybe you wonder if God could ever look at you with love. Good Friday answers that with a resounding yes. The Father turned His face from Jesus so He could turn it toward you. Not because you’re good, but because He is. Not because you earned it, but because Jesus paid it all.
This is love, not soft or sentimental, but costly, rugged, real. The kind of love that goes to the cross and comes out of the grave.
So on this Good Friday, don’t rush past the pain. Sit with it. Let it break your heart and heal it at the same time. Because the God who turned away for a moment did it so He could hold you forever.
“It is finished.” (John 19:30)
We love you all,
Randy and Susan
