We don’t naturally move toward discomfort—we avoid it, manage it, and keep it at a distance. But the story at the center of our faith invites us to do the opposite. As we walk through Gospel of Mark, the question rises again and again: who is Jesus Christ? The answer unfolds not in power as we expect it, but through suffering we’d rather ignore. The crown of thorns, the robe, the mocking cries of “hail, king”—what looks like humiliation is actually a kind of coronation. The King is lifted up, not onto a throne, but onto a cross. Join us for our Good Friday service as we slow down and sit in this reality together—honestly, reverently—allowing the weight of what Jesus endured to shape our understanding of who He is and what He has done. As darkness covers the land, we begin to see that this moment is more than physical suffering—it is something deeply spiritual and cosmic. When Jesus cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”—echoing Psalm 22—we witness the depth of what He takes on in our place. The One who is light steps into darkness so that we might be brought into life. And in a stunning turn, a Roman centurion declares what so many had missed: this truly is the Son of God. The veil is torn, the way is opened, and the price is paid. Before we rush to Sunday, we pause here—at the cross—where gratitude begins. Join us as we remember, reflect, and respond to the sacrifice that changed everything.