Sunday’s Comin’

It’s Friday. Hope is lost. Death has won. Sin has conquered.

It looks like the bleakest of days, one without any hope: that all of his disciples have abandoned Jesus; that his mother stands at the foot of the cross, watching Jesus die; that the Pharisees have put to death the man who performed miracles; that the Son of God cannot or will not save even Himself. This is the attitude of Good Friday, one we look back on with joy only with the hindsight of that first Easter morning, when all was set right.

We know Sunday is coming, but Jesus’ earliest followers did not.

Pastor S.M. Lockridge, one of the great preachers, built a sermon out of a poem that reflects on these very events. As we weep, we look forward, not back. Because Sunday. Is. Coming.

If you enjoy this, listen to Lockridge’s That’s My King.

It’s Friday…

by SM Lockridge

It’s Friday

Jesus is praying

Peter’s a sleeping

Judas is betraying

But Sunday’s comin’

It’s Friday

Pilate’s struggling

The council is conspiring

The crowd is vilifying

They don’t even know

That Sunday’s comin’

It’s Friday

The disciples are running

Like sheep without a shepherd

Mary’s crying

Peter is denying

But they don’t know

That Sunday’s a comin’

It’s Friday

The Romans beat my Jesus

They robe him in scarlet

They crown him with thorns

But they don’t know

That Sunday’s comin’

It’s Friday

See Jesus walking to Calvary

His blood dripping

His body stumbling

And his spirit’s burdened

But you see, it’s only Friday

Sunday’s comin’

It’s Friday

The world’s winning

People are sinning

And evil’s grinning

It’s Friday

The soldiers nail my Savior’s hands

To the cross

They nail my Savior’s feet

To the cross

And then they raise him up

Next to criminals

It’s Friday

But let me tell you something

Sunday’s comin’

It’s Friday

The disciples are questioning

What has happened to their King

And the Pharisees are celebrating

That their scheming

Has been achieved

But they don’t know

It’s only Friday

Sunday’s comin’

It’s Friday

He’s hanging on the cross

Feeling forsaken by his Father

Left alone and dying

Can nobody save him?

Ooooh

It’s Friday

But Sunday’s comin’

It’s Friday

The earth trembles

The sky grows dark

My King yields his spirit

It’s Friday

Hope is lost

Death has won

Sin has conquered

and Satan’s just a laughin’

It’s Friday

Jesus is buried

A soldier stands guard

And a rock is rolled into place

But it’s Friday

It is only Friday

Sunday is a comin’!