Good Friday

It was a true Chicago day. Brian came over in the morning and kindly agreed to go on a run with me to the lakefront - a favor that was more lengthy than my usual requests. We jogged to Soldier Field and went up the lake past the Shedd Aquarium. Besides the intense wind, it was an awesome experience. The water was aqua-greenish-bluish as it splashed on the rocks, tourists were out and about taking pictures of the skyline, and life was good. I love these things that put me outside, out of the constraints of four walls, and into the fresh air and cold wind. I love to leave my apartment on foot, not knowing an exact time of when I will return, and not having anything blocking me in to necessitate my prompt return with obligations and appointments. It’s nice to get out of temperature-controlled-everything and experience the world as it is, right now.

Then, after lunch, we started the afternoon at a great coffee shop in Bucktown called The Map Room (go visit!) before meeting up with Reese and Danny, friends who guided us around their neighborhood between record stores, thrift stores, and of course, Urban Outfitters.

In his natural habitat. 

The Good Friday service at my church was Heartbreakingly Good. Every word so meaningfully spoke to my heart. It is so convicting, to sing “Ah Holy Jesus, How Hast Thou Offended?”, a hymn about the suffering of Christ on the cross, and finishing the second verse with the words “I crucified thee!” It was not just the uptight, legalistic, religious leaders who crucified Jesus Christ. It was my sin, my nature to believe that I have the ability to atone for my own shortcomings, the belief that my grace is sufficient, the lie that I have the resources and qualifications to save myself, that lie that I am self-sufficient and not quite all that terribly bad, that lie that I fall into day by day…this is what crucified Jesus Christ. Good Friday services are so meaningful. They are also so heavy. It’s remarkable how seldom I reflect on the magnitude of Good Friday. And it’s remarkable how I am so forgiven in spite of my neglect of the magnitude of Good Friday. It was a beautiful service.

By the end of the night, we hadn’t eaten a thing, so we hopped over to Estrella Negra, a restaurant on the West Side, to indulge in some fabulous goat cheese quesadillas at a delicious BYOB joint.

All in all, it was a good good good day. A good day full of friends, happy memory making, painful remembering, and thankful reflecting. Good with a “capital G.” One time, a long time ago. Brian texted me, saying that “good” is an overused, understated word in our culture. We use it too much, and don’t mean it enough. I agree with him; I think he is right. Well, then, I’m going to try and redeem the worn-out word and say that this Good Friday, to me, was truly Good.