A Comedian's Take on Good Friday

Thoughts on the Most Sacred Disaster in History (Things That Matter #7)

Today is Good Friday. Even as a Bible scholar, I admit: the name is a little strange if you think about it. It’s strange because almost nothing that happened on this day was, well...good. Someone got betrayed. Someone got arrested. Someone got tortured, mocked, spit on, whipped, and murdered. That someone was, of course, Jesus. All that makes the comedian side of me think we should’ve called it “Humans Suck Friday” or “Everyone Failed Jesus Friday.” Good Friday was basically the day God let humanity bomb on the cosmic stage.

Some say the name “Good Friday” comes from an old German phrase meaning “God’s Friday.” Others say it’s from Old English for “Holy Friday.” I don’t know, maybe some poor monk misunderstood the assignment or got the wrong memo, suspected he was tasked with naming brunch or something, and went with “good.” By all human definitions, Good Friday is really a terrible day. If you stacked betrayal, injustice, cowardice, violence, and death into one day, Congratulations!, I guess you’ve got yourself a Good Friday. So odd!

Just to remind ourselves how odd this is, let’s run the list: 1) Judas sells out Jesus for thirty pieces of silver. That’s like the same amount you’d pay for a well-bred golden retriever these days. Come on, Judas! We could’ve had a dog mascot running with the apostles & disciples! 2) Peter folds faster than my wife’s Tommy Bahama lawn chair. Three times before sunrise! 3) Pilate literally says, “I find no fault in him,” then sends him off to be executed anyway. What? Okay! That makes sense!

Next, 4) the crowd chooses Barabbas, a known equivalent of an ancient terrorist or political insurrectionist, over the man who gave out free bread and healed people on his days off. Oddly, Barabbas is a Semitic name that means “son (bar) of the father (abbas).” So, Jesus, the Son of The Father, was given in exchange for Barabbas, the son of the father. A cool little fact. And…now ya know! 5) Roman guards mock Jesus, spit on him, beat him, and play dress-up like it’s Halloween.

We all know how the story goes: Jesus is crucified, naked, bleeding, humiliated, between two other political insurrectionists, two zealots (not thieves but political bandits!), while people scream for his blood. 6) The disciples vanish faster than dads at a kid’s birthday party when someone says “We need help with the cake.” Which isn’t quite as fast as my dad vanished on me when I was 5, but you get the point.

All in all, it was a cosmic-sized disaster. Eventually, the sky literally decided it had enough and went dark. The earth was pissed and shook. Graves opened. People panicked. And still, we call it Good. Who are we?! Why do we do such things? Well, here’s something to consider. I think we know deep down that, tucked inside all that horror, was something better than good. Something so absurdly beautiful it’s still unfolding two thousand years later. There was something great.

Good Friday, like a good joke, is a setup. Good Friday, ironically, is the darkest chapter right before the plot twist, the insane misdirect that flips the world on its head. It’s the day Jesus said, “I see your sin, your shame, your worst, and you know what, give it here; I’ll take it.” And then he did. Willingly. Who is he?!

Most people wouldn’t even take their spouse’s student loans or credit scores willingly. But Jesus took our punishment, our guilt, our death. And he didn’t just survive it. He flipped it. He started a joke that would give the ultimate misdirection at the end, the surprise twist. A punchline that’s not just good, but absolutely incredible, miraculous even. Jesus was being like the ultimate comedian on Good Friday and so, while I know the day is solemn and holy and sacred and we’re supposed to have reverence, I think we can have some holy laughter, too.

So, hang with me for just another moment, and let’s be honest. There are some parts of Good Friday that are, I think, hilarious, even if unintentionally so. 1) Judas tries to do an in-store return and it backfires. That’s right, he tries to return the silver like it’s a pair of slacks from Walmart. The priests are like, “Sorry, store credit only,” so they buy a field and name it “The Field of Blood.” Betcha didn’t see that comin’!

Next: 2) Peter cuts off a guy’s ear, and Jesus puts it back on like he’s Mr. Potato Head. Peter’s like, “I’m protecting you,” and Jesus is like, “Sit down, Peter. Dude, you’re actively making this worse by the minute!” And 3) can we talk, just for a second, about the fact that, in the middle of all this chaos, there’s a streaker? That’s right. Mark’s Gospel casually mentions a young man, possibly Mark himself, who was following Jesus, then ran off naked like a fan at a Bengals game, when the guards grabbed for him. Where precisely they grabbed him, we don’t know. But it was enough to make him take off running!

What was his plan exactly? And why was he wrapped in a linen sheet like someone’s mom caught him sneaking snacks after bedtime? Hilarious! Seriously, y’all, one minute Jesus is being arrested, the next minute some kid is booking it through the olive grove, moon out, olives shriveled, dignity gone. And, 4) what about the fact that, leading up to this, the disciples kept falling asleep? Like, that has to hold the Guinness Book of World Records spot for the world’s most ill-timed nap. There’s also, 5) Simon of Cyrene. This guy, perhaps a relative of Mark’s, gets pulled from the crowd and forced to carry the cross. I mean, this guy probably just wanted to grab a quick kebab before a long shabbat and now he’s part of the gospel story forever. Crazy how that happens!

Then there are 6) the guards at the tomb. These guys post up like Jesus is going to sneak out in the middle of the night wearing a hoodie. You just want to tell them, “Ehemm. Umm, sirs, gentlemen, the man raises people from the dead. Your spear won’t stop him. Go on, go home now. Nothing to see here!” I don’t know about you, but when I read these things, it’s as if even the Bible needed some moments of absurd comedy in the middle of this great cosmic tragedy. It needed to prove to us that, even when everything’s messed-up and falling apart, God still knows how to keep it interesting. God knows how to find the funny in it.

I know today is meant to be somber. I have preached many Good Friday sermons in my years. I get it. I totally get it. This year, I won’t be in a pulpit. This space right here is my pulpit. But I know it should be a somber day. At our church this evening, they’re showing The Passion, which will lead into a 36-hour fast. So yes, I get the be still aspect. I think it’s appropriate to quietly reflect. Grieving is a healthy reaction. But also, don’t miss the irony. And don’t be afraid to laugh.

Because the God who invented joy didn’t skip over it with this part of the story. So you shouldn’t either. No, he let funny leak through the cracks. Even in the pain, even in the blood, even in the death, there are a handful of divine winks. God’s story might be told with a whisper, but it’s still part of the setup. And with every setup, there’s an impending punchline. And this setup wasn’t the end, my friends, it was just the beginning. So please, hear me on this: On the first Good Friday, the worst thing wasn’t the final thing. The cross wasn’t the finish line; nah, it was the setup for the ultimate punchline. And that, that’s why Good Friday, as strange as it may be, isn’t just good, it’s everything.