"The Good News Is...Revealed Through Nonviolence" (April 3, 2026 Sermon)

Preaching: Rev. Dr. Kathryn G. N. Campbell

Text: Luke 22:47-53; 23:33-38, 44-46

Good Friday is the day we want to fast-forward and we’re convinced that’s exactly why we shouldn’t. We start with prayer and Luke’s Passion narrative, then we tell a true-to-life story that exposes our impatience with the cross: a church that scheduled “Easter Sunday” on Friday night. The reactions are almost automatic, but the question underneath is serious and personal: what happens to Christian hope when we try to reach resurrection without sitting with death?

We talk about Holy Week as formation, not just tradition. Good Friday names what is real in us and around us: betrayal, fear, public cruelty, and the urge to meet violence with violence. Yet Luke shows Jesus stopping the sword, healing the wounded, and praying forgiveness while he is mocked. We linger on what that means for anyone searching for a Good Friday sermon, the meaning of the crucifixion, or a Christian response to suffering. The waiting is not weakness. It’s a revelation of the heart of God: love to the end, mercy stronger than violence, forgiveness deeper than hatred.

The central image is the waiting room, that “hurry up and wait” space we all know from hospitals, airports, and repair shops. Good Friday is that hallway between promise and fulfillment, where we expect one outcome and receive another. If you’re carrying grief, anxiety, anger, or unanswered prayers, this message invites you to wait attentively with a Savior who does not rush past pain but sits with it and transforms it.

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Transcript

Opening Prayer For Good Friday

SPEAKER_01 0:00

Let us pray. O God of mercy and mystery, on this solemn night we dare not approach your word casually. So send your Holy Spirit among us, that in hearing again the story of betrayal, arrest, crucifixion, and death, we may be led into deeper truth. Strip away our defenses, still our restless minds, keep us near the cross long enough to see the depth of human sin and the deeper still mystery of divine love. As Jesus is betrayed with a kiss, mocked by the crowd and lifted up at the skull, let us hear not only what was done to him, but what he reveals of you. Mercy stronger than violence. Forgiveness deeper than hatred, love that will not let us go. Open our hearts then that this ancient story may become living word for us tonight. Through Christ our crucified Savior. Amen. While he was still speaking, suddenly a crowd came, and the one called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him, but Jesus said to him, Judas, is it with a kiss that you are betraying the Son of Man? When those who were around him saw what was coming, they asked, Lord, should we strike with the sword? Then one of them struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his right ear. But Jesus said, No more of this. And he touched his ear and healed him. Then Jesus said to the chief priests, the officers of the temple police, and the elders who had come for him, have you come out with swords and clubs as though I were a rebel? When I was with you day after day in the temple, you did not lay your hands on me. But this is your hour and the power of darkness. When they came to the place that is called the skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals. One on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by watching. But the leaders scoffed at him, saying, He saved others. Let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one. The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying, If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself. There was also an inscription over him. This is the king of the Jews. It was now about noon. And darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, when the sun's light failed. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. And Jesus, crying out with a loud voice, said, Father, into your hands I commend my spirit. And having said this, he breathed his last. Holy wisdom, holy word. Thanks be to God.

Can Easter Skip Good Friday

The Waiting Room Of Holy Week

What Jesus Reveals In Silence

Why Waiting Leads To Hope

SPEAKER_00 4:01

Good evening. I bring greetings just as Stephen has said, good evening, and excuse me, welcome to us at Fellowship. It is a gift to be here once again, as we're on what, three or four times now that we have been doing this in terms of our exchanges between our two congregations, and it is becoming richer with every opportunity that we have. And so again, I give thanks for the invitation and the welcome, and do uh send and receive love from this fellowship family to yours. So thank you once again. Earlier this week in a pastor's forum on social media, one pastor wanted to start a conversation or perhaps a debate about another congregation's holy week worship schedule. A screenshot of that neighbor's church announcement stated that Easter worship would be held a few times. And so there were many opportunities to worship as an Easter family. And as in many churches, there are services at sunrise and typical services like us at 10 a.m. and other times. But the additional time was Friday night at 6 p.m. You heard that correctly. The Easter Sunday worship service to celebrate the risen Lord at a Christian church is taking place as we actually worship here right now tonight. And so, what do you think the consensus of the social media jury that commented on the Friday evening Easter Sunday worship service? What do you think that might be? Well, your first reaction to hearing about it, if you guessed that most Presbyterian pastors in the group squirmed in their seats when reading about the Easter Sunday worship on Friday. Now, most comments tried to recognize that while holding the service when they were, most shared the same sentiments as I do. My opinion, perhaps the same as yours, is that you can't have Easter Sunday without having Good Friday. I have heard at times from new members of our church that they didn't recognize Lent in their previous church traditions. Now I have heard some say that they celebrated Easter but didn't do all that leads up to it. It just wasn't a part of their faith tradition. And so now while I honor those experiences, knowing that some worshiping communities might not do so, I also have to wonder, how do you celebrate Easter Sunday without also celebrating Good Friday? And while celebrate might not be the best word choice, it is something that we can note is necessary to our faith, right? Each of us here tonight is here because it's Good Friday. We are here tonight because we recognize the part of Holy Week that helps Easter Sunday make full sense. But while I do recognize the importance of observing Maundy Thursday and Good Friday during Holy Week, I'm sure uh Pastor Stephen and I can also recognize that last night and tonight in this Holy Week marathon kind of actually becomes a hurry up and wait. You know that feeling, that hurry up and wait feeling. Like you have to get there, but then you have to wait. We've lived it many times. Hurry up and wait, sitting in waiting rooms, for example. Those waiting rooms with fluorescent lights and really outdated magazines. Um there's the the doctor's waiting room where everyone is trying to look calm while secretly rehearsing worst-case scenarios about that one toe or that spot. There's the airport waiting area where people pretend to be patient but keep one eye on the gate agent like they're waiting for the starter pistol of a race. The plane is still gonna take off, everybody. It's okay. Then there's the car repair shop waiting room where the coffee is burnt, the chairs are cracked, and you brace yourself for the mechanic to walk out with either good news or a sermon about your brake pads. So, no matter the waiting room, we've all been there. Called and waiting for our number. Our number to be called, our name to be spoken, our turn to come. We've waited for test results, for reconciliation, for healing, for answers. We've waited for what we anticipate hearing and are met with what actually is. It's the type of waiting room we have, or the type of waiting we have during this window of time from Good Friday to Easter Sunday. So tonight, we think about the waiting for what we are anticipating to what we actually get in Luke's gospel. Jesus is arrested, not with a fight, but with a kiss. He's mocked, not defended. He's crucified, not rescued. And through it all, Jesus does not retaliate. Jesus doesn't raise a sword, he doesn't call down angels, he does not shout back. These are all options that witnesses to this could have anticipated happening. But the waiting to find out what actually does happen turns out to be anything but. Instead, Jesus forgives. He waits. And he breathes his last. So what do we learn from these means of waiting? How are we actually met with what we anticipate versus what actually is? The way Jesus responds to all that takes place on this day shows that it's not weakness, this waiting. Nothing Jesus has ever done has been that. Instead, what Jesus does is revelation. In the silence, in the suffering, in the refusal to meet violence with violence, Jesus reveals the heart of God. Jesus reveals that the heart of God is not one who conquers by force but loves to the end. The heart of God is not one who avoids pain but enters it fully. The heart of God is not one who demands sacrifice, but becomes the sacrifice. So tonight we wait in the already, but not yet. We wait in the what we think we know versus what actually comes to be. We wait, not passively, not impatiently, but attentively. Because in this waiting room that is a Good Friday space, that proverbial waiting room, of what facts we have in front of us, of what has taken place, thinking we know what's going to happen, we see what kind of Savior Jesus truly is. Not one who hurries past the pain, but one who sits with it. Not one who fights back, but one who forgives. Not one who escapes death, but one who transforms it. Revealed not through power, but through peace. Revealed not through dominance but through mercy. Revealed through nonviolence. It's the day when the world sits in the hallway, that proverbial hallway, between life and death, between promise and fulfillment, between what God has said and what we can see. It's the day when the disciples are hiding behind locked doors, unsure of what comes next. It's the day when hope feels like it's been taken off the cross and carried away. Good Friday is the proverbial waiting room where we learn that God does not rush past our pain. It's the waiting of someone who could act but chooses to love instead. It's the waiting of someone who could retaliate but chooses forgiveness. It's the waiting of someone who could dominate but chooses to die. God waits with us. God suffers with us. God sits in the silence also. And somehow, in that waiting, something holy begins. So let's get to the hurry up and waiting. Because we can't get to Easter Sunday unless we start here. And that's why Good Friday is a waiting room. One full of a spirit of holy anticipation for what we know has happened, and with the Holy Spirit's work, what will become fully evident in just a few days. Thanks be to God for the waiting and for what is to come. Amen.