Say it with me. We can admit it now.

Good Friday is not a story about God needing violence to feel better.

It’s not about God having to retaliate.
It’s not about “the sons of God” having their sacrificial lamb to balance out some moral scorecard.
It’s not about God needing blood sacrifice to “make it right” or to allow forgiveness to happen.

Good Friday is what happens when Love disrupts every plan the powers-that-be try to put in its place.

The Roman Empire did not kill innocent Jesus on Good Friday because they were mistaken. They knew exactly what they were doing.

Crucifixion was terror. Publicity. Intimidation.

“We don’t care who you pray to. But if you upset us, this is what we will do.”

Jesus wasn’t just speaking out against Rome. When he welcomed the marginalized, fed the hungry, loved beyond boundaries – he disrupted every system putting religion on top of a hierarchy of power.

He didn’t ask permission to break the rules.
He didn’t create a process for healing people.
He didn’t make people earn his love.

And love – true love – cannot be contained.

Love refuses to stay “spiritual.”

Love demands action.

And when power is threatened by truth… When greed and violence are exposed for the bullying they are… Empires do not apologize and change course.

They double down.

So Rome (and every empire like it) crushed a movement in its infancy.

Because this matters.

Good Friday was not:

God demanding Jesus to be sacrificed.
God needing violence to appease divine anger.
God requiring suffering for the greater good.

This dangerous and bloody ideology hiding behind angels and incense?

It is empire theology. Point blank.

Good Friday teaches us what happens when:

Love disrupts power.
Truth interrupts violence.
Justice calls out the systems built to oppress and exclude.

And the powers-that-be do what they’ve always done when their power is threatened.

Get violent.

We don’t like talking about this day.

Because it isn’t fun.

There is no miracle on Saturday.
There is no redemption.
There is no “oh everything’s gonna be ok.”

Silence. Heartache. Pain. Emptiness.

“That’s it?” we wonder. “This is how it ends?”

But it doesn’t.

Saturday is everything between “no more nails” and resurrection. Saturday is doubt kicking in.

And if we’re honest, many of us spend our lives between that Sunday hope and Good Friday ache.

Living on Saturday. Living on edge.

Wanting to believe, but not knowing what to believe.

Saturday shakes our faith.

On Easter Sunday, God didn’t wrap things up in a nice, neat story where good prevails and death is defeated.

Death still took Jesus’ life.

Violence was still everywhere.

But.

Easter cheated death.

And every empire theology with it.

Resurrection is a rebellion.

It’s unwilling to accept violence as the answer.

It’s unwilling to live in a constructed reality.

It’s unwilling to accept that death and hatred have the final word.

If death could’t hold Jesus’ body – it cannot hold Love.

If violence could silence Jesus’ teachings – they cannot silence ours.

You may try and destroy movements of Love again and again…

But you will not destroy Love.

If Easter Sunday is more than just a story we tell ourselves…. If it’s the pattern of our lives…

What does that mean for us? It means we don’t wait for resurrection to happen.

We make sure it does.

That means love disrupts violence every chance we get. It means shining light into darkness.

Welcoming the unwanted. Finding Jesus in the least expected places.

Because that’s what love does.

Not because it’s comfortable.

But because it’s true.

The early followers of Jesus didn’t react to this weekend and say, “Wow. Crazy times.”

They lived differently.

They embraced community.
They cared for the hungry.
They broke bread (literally) with those they’d been told to avoid.
They refused to let the powers-that-be dictate what was real.

Truth. Love. Grace.

They didn’t wait for the rapture.

They lived it.

Good Friday still occurs whether we want it to or not.

You can watch it play out whenever power exploits people to maintain authority.

Saturday will also happen.

You’ll know it when injustice seems endless and hope feels far away.

But resurrection?

Thank God, that’s still in the forecast.

Whenever someone speaks up for the love they know is on the other side of anger.
Whenever someone stands up for what is right, even when they’re scared.
Whenever someone pours love into a world trying its hardest to feel nothing.

That’s resurrection.

Not just a promise for the faithful.

But an action we see today.

The kind of action that keeps on happening.

If your faith can’t stand up to Good Friday… It won’t last.

But if your faith can sit in the silence of Saturday… And still believe that Sunday is coming…

You’ve got a faith that can change the world.

Cause faith without disruption won’t take us anywhere.

But a faith that scares you just might.