The Shocking Theology of Good Friday

The children sleep on the eve of Good Friday

and in a still house

I pour blood down the drain.


Scarlet drips from bowl’s edge and I’m struck


with images of the cutting of a throat, pools and reek of

of plasma, cells, platelets,

and this appeal of peaceable vegetarianism.


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I rub the marinate into the lamb,

blood ponding on plate,

my hand massaging the meat,

fingers pressing out more red,

all the necessary essence of Easter,

all very non-Hallmark,

the offensive theology of blood,


and nostrils fill with this wretched stench of sin,

and this one beating heart hurting for the only God

whose wild love

had Him tear open a vein

and do the repulsive,


become a lamb dragged to the slaughter

without bleating or begging

only bared

for the outrageous shedding of blood


to cleanse this mess

stained deep into my skin.



Stricken, Smitten & Afflicted: Fernando Ortega

{Consider pausing music by clicking the slider directly under the header? If reading in a reader or via email, click here to listen to this profoundly moving hymn…? }

every year, preparing the lamb, I return to this…

{This is part of a series this week on preparing hearts for Easter.
Part 1: How to Start Everything Well: can be found here}
Part 2: A Family Activity for Passion Week can be found here
Part 3: The Cross-Centered Life
Part 4: Where in this World do you Find Joy?