Imagine knowing you’re right, but having no one believe you. Imagine having the power to stop something evil from happening, but the wisdom to let it happen.

Imagine knowing that you are about to undergo indescribable pain and eternal torment, but you cannot express it; no one understands. Imagine needing your friends in an hour of great distress and having every single one of the people you have trusted and loved and helped abandon you.

Imagine being utterly alone and misunderstood. Imagine enduring the mocking of people who are blind, but mock you, the only one who can see. Imagine standing trial, accused by liars while embodying truth.

Imagine being rejected by your own people—the very ones you came to help. Imagine being falsely judged guilty by a ruler desperate to keep his authority, all the while realizing that you are the one who gives him his authority.

Imagine being condemned for your claim to kingship when you actually are the King. Imagine being whipped and beaten, crowned with thorns, and mocked by soldiers while the armies of heaven stand, awaiting their orders from you, their Great Commander.

Imagine having the power to uphold the universe, but not the strength to carry a cross because you’ve been wounded so badly by your own creation. Imagine seeing your mother weeping and your ‘believers’ not believing as you approach the hill of your imminent death.

Imagine being stripped naked in front of the crowds and exposed so people passing by who don’t know you—though you created them—can mock you and wag their heads at you and laugh at your suffering. Imagine the moment of piercing pain when nails are hammered through the flesh and tendons of your hands and your feet.

Imagine being ‘lifted up’ in death for people who deserved to be brought low. Imagine being the definition of innocence and holiness and beauty, but then in a moment, taking on the full guilt and shame and horrific ugliness of sin. Imagine knowing that you are Living Water, but while your blood runs out you are forced to cry, ‘I thirst!’

And then imagine in that moment, as you are strung up between heaven and earth, abandoned by your people, you cry out to your Father, who looks to you in anger, wrath, and enmity—and then turns his face away. Even he rejects you; you are as despicable as sin itself to the Father you love. Imagine you are utterly alone, abandoned, exposed as the worst of sinners, under the condemnation of man and God, bearing inconceivable wrath and torment in the depths of your soul, all so that the people who cursed you might know your Father’s full blessing.

You can’t imagine it. Neither can I.

But that’s what my King did for me. And that is why this day is Good.