We just celebrated Good Friday. I’ve often thought that that is a strange name for this holiday. I mean, if you think about what happened on Good Friday—the crucifixion of Jesus—it doesn’t seem too good. But it is. The death of Jesus is good, because we are bad.

You see, we have a good feel for Easter. Easter is celebration. Easter is victory: life over death, resurrection over the grave. On Easter, God defeated death and death is our last enemy. But we’re not really sure what to do with Good Friday. It feels different than Easter—very different. Easter is up; Good Friday is down. Easter is celebration; Good Friday is somber. Easter is about life; Good Friday is about death.

Easter is not joyous without Good Friday. There is no life without death. Well, maybe I should say it like this. There’s no life after death without death. You see, Good Friday invites us to deal with that which causes death—disease and destruction and tragedy. Good Friday invites us to deal with hurt, pain, anger, fear, doubt. Good Friday invites us to deal with sin.

You see, there is a reality to sin. Our culture doesn’t believe this. Our culture believes that hardship and difficulty and even evil are due to difficult home lives and unfair opportunities. Our culture believes that people would do the right things if given the opportunity. But there is a reality to the fact that evil is not outside of us; it is within us. Why is it that I’m almost 62 years old and I’m still jealous of other people’s advantages, and that jealousy makes me fearful and angry and suspicious and insecure? And when I’m fearful and angry and suspicious and insecure, I don’t love others very well. When I’m fearful and angry and suspicious and insecure, I’m more concerned about me than I am about others. I thought when I got old—and at 62, I’m old—that I would be beyond these kinds of things, but I’m not. Evil does not affect us from without, it affects us from within. It is inside of us.

You see, Jesus didn’t just die. He died for a reason. He died because I’m a sinner, and you’re a sinner. And Good Friday allows you to own that fact. And that’s okay. Good Friday allows you to look in the mirror and not be ashamed—well, ashamed at the evil inside of you, but not so ashamed that you have to continue to bear it. Good Friday allows you to become more comfortable with your sin, not that you like it or accept it, but that you are not surprised by it. Good Friday allows you to name your sin, to look at your fear or your anger or your suspicion or your insecurity, and say, “Yeah, that’s me. I recognize those sins. In fact, I’m very familiar with them. I’ve lived with them a long time.”

Good Friday is not a time for pretense. It is not a time to pretend that everything’s okay. Everything is not okay. It’s just not. Those sins that we so easily dismiss sent Jesus to the cross. The Scriptures tell us that without the shedding of blood there is no remission, there is no putting away, of sin. Good Friday is a time to be real. It is a time to own the state of your soul.