The Good Friday of Life 

Every year, when Good Friday arrives, we remember the suffering and death of Christ. The church grows quiet. The altar is bare. The liturgy slows us down and invites us to sit with pain, silence, and sacrifice. Good Friday is not only an event in the life of Jesus; it is also an experience in our own lives. 

Each of us encounters moments that feel like a personal Good Friday, don’t we? Times when plans collapse, relationships strain, health falters, or uncertainty clouds the future. These are the times when life feels heavy and answers are not easily found. During a recent retreat at the Xavier Retreat Centre in Baga, I was reflecting on the Ignatian spiritual exercises which helped me see these moments in a different light. 

St. Ignatius of Loyola taught that God is present even in the most difficult chapters of our lives. The cross, after all, was not the end of the story. 

One of the most powerful Ignatian practices is the ‘Examen’. At the end of each day, we pause to look back: Where did I notice God today? What am I grateful for? When did I struggle or fall short? This quiet reflection teaches us that God accompanies us through ordinary and challenging moments alike. Even on difficult days, the Examen helps us recognise small signs of grace that we might otherwise miss. 

Next is ‘contemplation’, not simply thinking about scripture, but imaginatively entering it. When we contemplate the Passion, we are no longer distant observers. We stand near the cross. We hear the murmurs of the crowd, feel the tension of the moment, and witness the suffering and courage of Christ. Through contemplation we realise that Jesus understands human pain not from a distance but from within our human experience. 

Another important Ignatian practice is ‘discernment’. Life constantly presents us with choices; some simple, others deeply confusing. 

During difficult seasons we often ask, “What is God asking of me now?” Discernment is the patient process of listening to the movements of our hearts, the restlessness, the peace, the hope, the unease. God speaks through these inner movements, gently guiding us towards decisions even when the way ahead seems uncertain. 

The retreat also reflected on two beautiful Jesuit values: ‘Magis’ and ‘Cura Personalis’. 

Magis means striving for the “greater good”, not in a competitive sense, but in asking how we can love and serve more generously. Good Friday reveals the ultimate Magis: Christ giving himself completely for the sake of others. 

Cura Personalis, meaning “care for the whole person,” reminds us that God cares about every dimension of our lives; spiritual, emotional, and physical. During our own Good Fridays, we often forget this. We push ourselves too hard or carry our burdens silently. Ignatian wisdom reminds us that caring for ourselves and caring for others are both part of God’s invitation. 

Perhaps the most comforting Ignatian insight is the call to find God in all things. Not only in churches or moments of prayer, but also in daily life, work, relationships, and even struggle. Good Friday teaches us that God can be present even in suffering. The cross itself, once a symbol of defeat, became a sign of hope. 

Life, like the liturgical year, moves through its own rhythm of Good Fridays and Easter Sundays. We all pass through seasons of waiting, uncertainty, and loss. Yet the Christian story reminds us that darkness is never the final word. 

The silence of Good Friday prepares the way for the joy of Easter morning. 

And perhaps that is the deeper lesson: when we pause to reflect through the Examen, contemplate Christ’s journey, discern God’s quiet guidance, seek the Magis, practise Cura Personalis, and learn to find God in all things, even our hardest days can become places of quiet transformation. Our Good Fridays, too, hold the promise of resurrection. 

Louella Santimano Dias