Gunner over at Raw Christianity writes eloquently of our dirty and faithful hope this Resurrection Sunday.
Good Friday. It seems that nothing less than your spiritual best can qualify you to worship on such a day. A day of gory splendor such as this calls for heartfelt pangs of conviction and heartwarming expressions of gospel praise. Dressed in white robes or with the flashing brightness of the angels, you may come. Dressed in the happy garb of springtime, head upraised in joyful procession, you may come. Carefully groomed, neatly pressed, all put together, you may come.
But I do not suppose that Good Friday is only for these, or mainly for these, or for these at all. No, this is where the filthy come to wash our garments white, where the wretched come to find undeserved love, where the estranged come to find reconciliation. We come to worship, yes, but we come to be healed, to be washed, to be forgiven. We come for mercy. And in our desperate receiving of this mercy is our worship.
So if you are under trial, come. He was tried for you. If you find yourself accused, welcome. He was accused for you. If your burdens are heavy, come. He carried the crossbeam for you. If your road is hard, come. He walked the Calvary Road for you. If your critics are many, come. He was mocked and ridiculed for you. If you feel forsaken, come. He was forsaken for you. On Good Friday, if your songs are songs of lament, come. Never was there a lament like his.
I say again, lest it go unsaid: If you are downcast, come. He was cast down for you. If you find your soul downtrodden — whether you know why or not — come. He was trodden down for you. And if you find your heart as empty and cold as the cold, empty tomb, come. It was emptied for you.
*click here for his whole post*