Two thousand years ago, a man was executed by the state — not for violence or greed or treason, but for loving too boldly, speaking too truthfully, and lifting up those whom society had cast down. He was betrayed by one who feared change, abandoned by friends who feared consequence, and condemned by a crowd stirred into fear and fury.
And every Good Friday, we are asked:
Where would I have stood in that crowd?
Today, we see immigrants detained and deported without justice. The stories of the marginalized, the poor, the disabled, are silenced or distorted. Our history — the truth of who has suffered, and who has caused that suffering — is being erased in the name of comfort. And those who cry out for compassion and justice are labeled as threats.
So let us ask ourselves again:
Where do I stand now?
Am I the silent one who turns away? The comfortable one who says, "It’s not my place to speak?" The fearful one who whispers, "I don’t want to get involved?"
Or am I willing to walk beside the crucified of our own time — to recognize that being “good” in the biblical sense doesn’t mean being quiet, passive, or polite, but being courageous, disruptive, and radically loving?
Good Friday is not just a story of ancient suffering.
It is a call — urgent and present — to see clearly, to speak boldly, to take the more difficult path, and to stand with the condemned, not the condemners.
Good Friday message, 2025
