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Good morning on this Good Friday.

The image of Christ on the cross has been captured in paint, stained-glass, stone and film countless times through the centuries. But so ubiquitous is the picture that it can often become sanitised, little more than a pendant on a necklace and far removed from the brutal execution depicted in the Bible. Moreover, there’s a danger we lose sense of how startling it is that one of the most iconic images in many cultures and communities is one of suffering.

When reading Theology at University I chose for my thesis to study Christian responses to suffering. I was recommended a book by historian Margaret Spufford called Celebration, a beautiful but heart-breaking account of the years of pain she and her daughter suffered due to chronic physical illnesses. On one occasion, Margaret describes being carried on a stretcher by paramedics who had an uncharacteristic misadventure. One of them lost his grip and dropped her. Margaret had suffered severe osteoporosis since her 20s and she describes all her senses going berserk in agony. And yet in that moment she had a vision of Christ on the cross, just a glimpse very specifically of his arms and shoulder, the muscles bunched in pain. He did not assuage her pain she says – but he was inside it.

The Bible describes the resurrected Jesus as still bearing his scars. It is dangerous territory to ponder the purpose of suffering, but it seems to me profound that in the Easter story of life triumphing over death, suffering is not forgotten.

Heavenly father, give us the humility to sit with the deep and difficult questions of life, and give us the compassion to sit with the suffering. That they may know they are not alone. AMEN