DARKNESS AT NOON Good Friday 2010

When darkness falls, the day is over. It's as simple as that.
But on THIS day, darkness came not at sundown but at noon—high noon—the hour when the sun had reached its greatest height, the very peak of the day.
It didn't make any sense to those who gloated at the foot of the cross. At the very moment when they sensed their utter and complete victory, suddenly, inexplicably, the sun's light disappeared and darkness covered the land.
In John's account of the crucifixion of our Lord this wonder if never mentioned. Perhaps for John the whole day was filled with darkness. Or perhaps his vision was affected by the One who claimed to be the light of the world, the Light which John himself testified about—the true light that enlightens every man-- the light that the darkness of this horrible day could not extinguish.
But Matthew, Mark, and Luke saw the darkness. It had been there all along, but now it was visible to everyone standing there that day.
The darkness muffled the gloaters. First darkness—reminiscent of the darkness that covered the land of Egypt many Passovers ago—but then, after the darkness, what would be next?
If it was a victory for them, it was short-lived at best. But for the first time these people who dwelt in the land of deep darkness found themselves afraid of the dark. They had to sense that God was up to something there. After all, it's never dark at noon.
"Maybe we should postpone the party," someone might have said. Indeed! Who can party when God is up to something great, unpredictable and mysterious?
They should have sensed it earlier. They COULD have sensed it earlier. One would expect that the pain from the nails would have been enough to bring a man to total rage at his enemies, but not at THIS cross. What did he say? Did I get that right? "Father, forgive them for they know not what they are doing."
How incredible! How absurd! How could he say that? Certainly they knew WHAT they were doing—they knew exactly what they were doing—their hopes and their plans were coming to fruition. Success at last. No more Galilean nonsense to put up with. These educated, sophisticated, and wealthy people had thought it all through, and once they discovered Judas, the trap was set, the end they longed for finally came into view.
They knew exactly what they were doing. Didn't they? How could he make such an outrageous statement?
But what did he mean by praying, "Father forgive them?" Talk about outrageous! Who did he think he was, anyway, asking God to forgive his enemies, the very ones who had purchased the nails and set the plot in motion? This was a clue to a mystery far beyond their pay grade.
Then they heard another clue. The thief dying beside him certainly deserved his fate—just as much as the man in the middle. It's hard to imagine that he would have the nerve to ask for a future with him. It was only a matter of hours until both of them would be dead, and it wouldn't be much longer until they would be buried, out of sight, out of mind, forgotten, good riddance!
Talk about absurd? Why ask a dying man for a future? But then again, what did he have to lose?
Or was it that this thief was able to see what the educated, sophisticated religious leaders were unable to see? Blinded by their overblown estimation of their own egos?
"Today, you will be with me in Paradise," the man in the middle said. Oh really? A thief in Paradise? Rewards for the reckless and irresponsible? How could he make him such an offer? Who DID he think he was, anyway?
But then again, they might have seen the clue that stared them right in the face. The promise was given not by the other thief. It came from the "man in the middle." Do you suppose that being in the middle was more than just a coincidence? Maybe it was another clue God was using to disclose to those who could see in the dark that this man saw a future that others could not even conceive of.
The moment they waited for finally DID arrive. The sand in that fragile hourglass eventually ran out, thank God. Those three hours of darkness must have felt like an eternity. Was it ONLY three hours? Or, WAS it Eternity condensed into just three hours?
His voice was much louder than anyone might have expected. It was so loud that they could feel it deep inside their souls. Who could imagine that he would be able to summon up such strength at his moment of greatest weakness and desolation? "Father," he said. How could he even call God "Father" at a moment like this? Weak, wounded, abandoned—What kind of "Father" could he be, anyway?
"Into your hands I commit my spirit," he said. He had reached his final destination, after all. He returned to the One from whom he came. Gone. Soon to be forgotten. Not soon enough for some, but at least it was FINALLY over. The darkness would lift. The New Day would dawn. The agitator would soon be forgotten, and life would return to normal again. Leave his body on the cross. Let the vultures come and have their feast. And those who made it happen could also have theirs.
What are they doing? Taking his body down? Cleaning it? Wrapping it with cloth filled with spices? No reason to do that! But let it be—at least now the darkness could end and life could return once more to what it had been before he came. Yes, the victory was theirs. Final Victory! Or so THEY thought.