rev walter richardson_webjpg.jpgWouldn’t it be wonderful if every day was Sunday and the Sabbath had no end? Wouldn’t it be nice if we experienced only revival, renewal, refreshing, rejoicing and recovery every day of the week?


Well, welcome to the real world. There are seven days in the real world. And in the real world it appears that each day the Good Lord sends we are either entangled in some crisis, encountering some disappointment or encouraging someone else who is dealing with crisis and disappointment.  Even in our service to God, our work is, more often than not, sprinkled with suffering, sorrow and surrender. And it’s cyclical.  It happens each, solo, single, solitary day.

Dr. James Dobson says in his wonderful book, When God Doesn’t Make Sense, that sometimes our work for the Master challenges us to hold on to our faith but we know in the end our work pays off.  Our Savior informs us as He walked towards Calvary that a consecrated life is laden with both negative and positive days.

Mondays can be so marvelous. The Monday following Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem, He cleansed the temple and healed some folk.  Tuesdays can be terrific. Jesus taught parables and transformed people on the Tuesday after Palm Sunday. Wednesdays can be wonderful. Jesus witnessed a widow on welfare when she worshiped with her limited worth while He watched the wealthy workers wonder at her wisdom. Thursdays can be threatening.  On that first Holy Week, on Thursday afternoon and evening, Jesus sat with friends and a foe around a table and then washed their feet. And, then came Friday.

Not all Fridays are the same but a significant number of them are frightening.  Friday, in many circles, represents incompletion, partial attainment and imperfection.  It represents the end of a cycle that is tied to the beginning of another cycle.  And, yes, even Jesus had Fridays in His life.

But none of His Fridays came close to his last Friday before He died.

On that last Friday, He fell on His face crying because of the critical crisis and confusion He would face. On that Friday, He was betrayed by His own disciple who demonically demonstrated his contempt for his own Master.  On that Friday He was abandoned by His friends. On that Friday, He was mocked by His detractors.  On that Friday, He was stripped of His personal clothes. On that Friday, He died. On that Friday, He was buried.  That all happened on the same Friday.

William Penn in his biography infers it had to be like that for our Savior:  “No pain, no palm; no thorns, no throne; no gall, no glory; no cross, no crown.”  That’s right. But then came Sunday.

Sunday neutralized the horrors, hurt and hindrances of Friday and the pain of crying. Friday was, in fact, a set-up for the Lord to show up and show out on Sunday.  It was a Good Friday, only because it was going to be followed by a Good Sunday.

Honesty sets in when you consider the fact of Friday but hope sets in when you consider the joy of Sunday.  It had to feel that bad on Friday to feel that good the following Sunday.  It had to be that bad to turn out to be that good.

That’s what makes the Resurrection so powerful; it happened early one Sunday Morning.

Hallelujah!