Years ago, I had the privilege of illustrating a modern dramatization of the Good Friday story. It was for a live event attended by thousands of youth at the San Antonio Alamodome. I was the video producer for the event.
The story needed a soundtrack, and I have always been slain by the old classic hymn, “O Sacred Head Now Wounded.” It is most beautiful—and yet so grief-stricken at the same time. Despite my inclination to use it, I couldn’t find a recording that fit the vibe of such an event, largely attended by a crowd influenced by postmodernism and pop culture.
So, I called my friend Robby Robertson of Frankie Valli fame (Robby is Valli’s musical producer). I asked him to take my highly edited hymn lyrics and make (ahem). . .
. . . make a heavy metal version of the hymn.
If my memory serves, Robby got some members of Grand Funk Railroad to help him record it (don’t hold me to that). I think it turned out amazing.
Tonight, as I write this on the close of Good Friday, I still have that hymn version in my head. I wanted to share it with you.
O Sacred Head Now Wounded (Youth Gathering Arrangement). Note the heartbeat at the end.
Ten key realizations about Good Friday:
- Jesus’ death was not accidental. He timed it perfectly to coincide with the Passover. Likely, his death on the cross in the 9th hour of Good Friday aligned with the original Mosaic determination of when the passover lambs were to be slain on Passover. (See Joachim Jeremias’ The Eucharistic Words of Jesus, 1966, London: SCM Press.)
- At that time, the thousands of passover lambs necessary for the Passover crowds were raised in Bethlehem. After the sacrifice of the One born in Bethlehem, lambs are no longer necessary.
- Recall the story of Abraham who was commanded by God to offer his only son, Isaac, as a sacrifice (Genesis 22). Tradition has it that Abraham’s place of sacrifice was on Mount Moriah, essentially on the same spot as we find the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. (Ironically, a Muslim mosque sits on it today, a religion that often asks fathers to sacrifice their sons for jihad and a place in heaven.)
- Isaac asked his father, “Where is the lamb for the sacrifice?” Isaac did not realize at that moment that he was the intended victim. As you know, God intervened at the very last moment and provided a substitute lamb (a ram). Ever since the first passover in Egypt, the Israelites have eaten the sacrificed lamb (or young goat) as prescribed by God.
- It is certainly no coincidence that, when Abraham reassured Isaac that God would provide the sacrifice, it was uttered at a spot only feet from where, hundreds of years later, Jesus was offered himself as the ultimate sacrificial lamb.
- It is a profound reversal: Abraham, whose hand was stayed as he was about to sacrifice his only son, was then provided a ram caught in the thicket to take Isaac’s place. Then later, Jesus himself, praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, felt the burden of becoming that very sacrifice—He was caught in his predestined thicket, crying out to his Father for a way out. I would like to believe that the very thicket where Abraham found the ram was where the Garden of Gethsemane is today. At least, it is plausible.
- Instead of allowing the sacrifice of Isaac, God stayed Abraham’s hand, and ultimately, substituted His one and only son as the replacement. The amazing thing is that the crucifixion took place in virtually the same location, just hundreds of years later, in the fullness of time.
- Tradition has it that the Lord’s Supper was held in an upper room in the Mount Zion neighborhood of old Jerusalem. Due to the typography of the city, anyone standing at a north or east-facing window in an upper room in that part of Jerusalem would have likely enjoyed an unobstructed view of Mount Moriah (aka, the Temple Mount). I would like to believe Jesus looked out such a window on Maundy Thursday and recognized the exact spot where Abraham’s ram was caught in the thicket as well as the place where the ram was sacrificed.
- In light of the events on Mount Moriah centuries prior, one must consider the charge of John and Peter to prepare the Passover meal on the day before Jesus’ crucifixion. I would like to believe that the two were told by Jesus to forego bringing a sacrificed lamb to the upper room. Such a critical omission would have certainly sparked some discussion: “But Lord, where will we get the lamb for the passover?” Or, “We have everything prepared, but we have no lamb to eat.” I imagine Jesus responding quietly as he glances out the window toward the temple, “Don’t worry. God will provide the lamb.” And so, he did.
- We read, “Take and eat, this (bread) is my body. . . and this (wine) is my blood” (Mark 14, et al.). Mosaic law was strict in its demand that God’s people should avoid contact with dead things (Leviticus 21, Numbers 6, et al.). The law was equally insistent that people not consume the blood of their kills and sacrifices—the blood was to be poured out on the altar (Leviticus 17, Deuteronomy 12, et al.). Those Mosaic laws were meant to keep one from defiling oneself by touching a corpse or from consuming the very lifeblood of another being. So in the upper room, imagine the horror of the relatively orthodox disciples at the Lord’s Supper who were asked by Jesus to “take and eat. . . . this is my body. . . and take and drink, this is my blood.” Yet, that is exactly what Jesus offered his disciples. Indeed, it was an unimaginable and revolutionary new covenant, and the world has never been the same since.
Philip J. Hohle, Ph.D.
