Prayer Tip--The Arrest, Trial and Crucifixion

Today, we hold Good Friday in worship. And in Matthew’s telling, this day is both heartbreaking and holy.

There is injustice, clear and undeniable.

There are decisions already made, hearts already closed.

Voices accuse. Power protects itself.

And Jesus is handed over.

Peter cannot hold steady. The disciples cannot remain. The crowds are easily swayed.

And yet others do stay. Women stand at a distance, watching, bearing witness.

A Roman centurion, unexpectedly, sees what others cannot and names what is true.

And Jesus? He mostly says nothing.

Not because he has nothing to say, but because he is not resisting what love is choosing to do.

Matthew lets us see both the brokenness of the moment and the quiet, steady movement of God within it.

Because this is not only a story of suffering. It is a story of self-giving love, a love that does not force, but gives, and remains.

So as you come to prayer this week, I invite you into a gentle and authentic practice:

A Practice of Bearing Witness

Set aside a few quiet minutes. Let your breathing slow. Let your body settle.

And then, place yourself in the story.

Not to analyze it. Not to explain it. But to witness it.

Notice what draws your attention.

Is it Peter, struggling to stay true? Is it the crowd, pulled by the moment? Is it the women who remain present with Jesus when others cannot? Or is it the silence of Jesus, steady, grounded, present? Where do you find yourself?

Let yourself be there, without needing to change it. And then, stay there, as a witness.

You might quietly pray, “Jesus, help me to see,” or “Keep me near.”

Because even here, especially here, something is opening. What seemed closed is being torn open. What felt distant is being drawn near.

And this is the quiet truth at the heart of this day:

Jesus does not turn away. Not from the cross. Not from the world. Not from you.

You do not need to understand it fully. But you are invited to receive it.

And as you do, you may begin to sense that even here, even now, God is present, and love is reaching toward you, holding you, drawing you near.