It's not Easter yet, but it won't be long now, just seven short days. And what joy we will feel when we get there! But we have a big problem. To get from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday we have to walk through a graveyard in the dark. The only road from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday runs right through the middle of Good Friday. That road is not an easy road to walk. Those who don't have the stomach for the journey, those who seek that ouch-less faith we talked about, will stay home from today until next Sunday, showing up just in time for the trumpets and the lilies and the hallelujah chorus.

The rest of us better hang onto one another as tightly as we can as we tiptoe past the tombstones and stand together at the foot of the cross. And we must not look the other way as we stand there. It's going to hurt to see him hanging there, knowing the agony he's going through and knowing further that the only reason he's putting himself through all that is his love for you and me. Another shout will ring out on Good Friday, but it won't be "Hosannah!" It won't be, "Christ, you know I love you. Did you see, I waved?" It will be "Tetelestai!" – it is finished. And the Son of God will die.