Why Do We Call It Good Friday?

As a child growing up, Good Friday was always a solemn day. There was no school, no work, just a deep, almost tangible stillness in the air. I remember the quiet presence of my mother and grandmother as they got ready for church. They didn’t speak much that day. Their faces were serious, their dresses and veils were black, their movements careful, reverent. I would follow them to the Good Friday liturgy not really understanding everything, but feeling, very clearly, the weight of the day. The music was sparse, the church dim, the crucifix not yet unveiled. There was silence, kneeling, the slow, reverent movement toward the cross for the veneration. Even as a child, I sensed the grief in the room. Christ had died. It was a day of loss, of mourning. And yet, strangely, we call it Good Friday.

Why?

On Good Friday, we hear the Passion read once again. Jesus betrayed, beaten, mocked, crucified. We hear his final words: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” And we see what appears to be the greatest tragedy in human history: the Son of God rejected and killed. And still we call it good. Because the story doesn't end with the tomb. The goodness of this Friday lies hidden beneath the sorrow. Through his suffering, Christ redeems suffering. Through his death, Christ opens the door to life. This is not the end, but the beginning of something new. In the darkness of this day, there is a light that has not been extinguished. It is the light of sacrificial love, the kind of love that does not run away from pain or rejection. Good Friday is good, not because what happened was painless or easy, but because it changed everything. Because from the cross, Jesus poured out mercy on the world. Because even in the silence of the tomb, God is at work.