Why is it called "Good" Friday anyway?

I never experienced a more joyous Easter morning than the one that followed a heartbreaking Good Friday. You see, we can’t really comprehend or appreciate the joy of the resurrection until we’ve sat in the weight of the cross. We live in a time where people want to skip straight to Sunday. They want the victory without the suffering. They want the empty tomb without the bloody, uncomfortable cross. But if you don’t walk through Friday, you can never fully understand the euphoric joy that comes on Sunday.

So here’s the question you need to sit with: why is it called “Good” Friday? What was good about that day? A man was betrayed, falsely accused, mocked, beaten, and spit on. A crown of thorns was pressed into His head. Nails were driven through His hands and feet. He was lifted up on a cross and left to die. What about that is good?

And here’s an even more personal question: why did He have to die?

He had to die because we were filled with sin. He had to die because we could not make ourselves right with God. He had to die because justice demanded a payment, and we could never pay it.

So He did.

It was your sin and my sin that put Him on that cross. That’s not just a theological statement, that’s a personal reality. Every lie, every proud thought, every act of rebellion, every moment we chose our way over God’s way, He paid for it.

The cross wasn’t just painful, it was substitution. He stood in our place. He took our penalty. He bore the wrath that we deserved. That was rightfully our cross. And if you’ll slow down long enough to really think about that, it should break your heart.

It should.

Don’t rush past it. Don’t try to clean it up. Don’t try to soften it. Let yourself feel it. Let yourself sit in the weight of what happened that day, because until your heart is broken by the cross, it won’t truly rejoice at the resurrection.

But here’s why it’s called “Good.” It’s called good because that was the day your debt was paid. It’s called good because that was the day justice was satisfied. It’s called good because that was the day mercy was made available. It’s called good because through His death, we can be made right with God. That’s why it’s called Good Friday.

So take time to reflect. Take time to feel the weight of it. Allow yourself to experience, even in a small way, the sorrow of that day. But don’t forget this:

Sunday morning is coming, and while there is weeping in the night, joy comes in the morning!

- Pastor Charley Munro
Living Grace Church, Tyler, Texas

This Sunday, we continued our “Overheard” series by listening in on one of the most hope filled conversations in Scripture.

John 11:25–26: “Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live. And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?’”

These are not just comforting words. They are words of authority, spoken into grief, confusion, and the shadow of death. And they force us to face a question every person must answer.

What does Jesus say about death?

In John 11, Lazarus has died. Martha and Mary are grieving. Jesus arrives four days after the funeral, when the tomb has already been sealed and all hope seems gone. But instead of speaking only about a future resurrection, Jesus says, “I am the resurrection and the life.”
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That was the heart of this message. “Life Over Death” was not just about Lazarus being raised. It was about the gospel itself. Apart from Christ, we are spiritually dead. We cannot save ourselves or raise ourselves. But Jesus speaks life where death seems to have won.

First, we looked at the reality of death.

Martha said, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.” She believed in Jesus, but she struggled to understand His timing. That reminds us that faith does not mean we never ask questions. It means we bring those questions to Jesus.

We also saw that Scripture speaks plainly about spiritual death.

Ephesians 2:1 says, “And you He made alive, who were dead in trespasses and sins.”

We were not just weak in sin. We were dead. We didn't need advice. We needed resurrection.

Second, we looked at the authority of Jesus.
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By the time Jesus arrived, Lazarus had been dead four days. The funeral was over. The stone was in place. Humanly speaking, nothing could be done.

But Jesus is not limited by what looks final to us.

A dead man can't raise himself. Lazarus came out of the tomb because Jesus called his name. That is also how salvation works. Christ is the One who gives life. He is not just a comforter at the grave. He is the Lord of life.
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Third, we looked at the gift of new life.

When Lazarus came out, he was alive, but still wrapped in grave clothes. That's a picture of the Christian life. When Jesus saves a person, He truly gives new life. But there are often still old habits, fears, and struggles that cling to them.

Second Corinthians 5:17 says, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.”

Jesus doesn't just improve a life. He makes a person new. And Romans 6:4 says we are to “walk in newness of life.” That means this new life is not only for someday. It changes how we live right now.

We closed by returning to the question at the center of the sermon.

What does Jesus say about death?

He says death is real, but it does not have the final word for those who believe in Him. He says the grave is not the end of the story. He says life is found in Him alone.

And He still asks the same question He asked Martha.

“Do you believe this?”

– Pastor Charley Munro
Living Grace Church, Tyler, Texas

This Sunday, we stepped back into our “Overheard” series by listening in on one of the most intense conversations Jesus ever had.

Matthew 23:13: “But woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you shut up the kingdom of heaven against men; for you neither go in yourselves, nor do you allow those who are entering to go in.”

That’s not gentle language. It’s direct. It’s sobering. And it forces us to wrestle with a serious question.

How do we live holy lives without becoming hypocritical?

Jesus was not attacking devotion. He was confronting distortion. These were men who fasted, prayed, tithed, and knew Scripture. Yet He says, “Woe to you.” Why? Because somewhere along the way, holiness had been replaced with performance, and access to God had been surrounded by man made barriers.

First, we have to guard against gated grace.

Jesus accused them of shutting the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces. They weren’t ignorant of truth. They were obstructing it. They added extra requirements, traditions, and interpretations until ordinary people felt like they had to pass a religious exam just to get close to God.

And here’s the danger. That kind of religion often starts sincere. People want to protect truth. They want to honor holiness. They start to build a "fence" around the law. The idea is that if we don't want to fall in to the pit of sin, we should create something to keep us away from the edge. But over time, the fence becomes the focus. The ritual becomes the standard. And grace starts feeling complicated.

Peter warned about this in the early church.

Acts 15:10: “Now therefore, why do you test God by putting a yoke on the neck of the disciples which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear?”

Salvation isn’t earned by mastering a system. It’s received by faith.

Ephesians 2:8–9: “For by grace you have been saved through faith… not of works, lest anyone should boast.”

When we make people feel like they must clean themselves up before coming to Christ, we’ve reversed the gospel. Jesus is the One who cleanses. He opens the way. We don’t stand in the doorway.

Second, we must reject polished piety.

In Matthew 23:25–28, Jesus speaks of cups that are clean outside but filthy inside, and tombs that appear beautiful outwardly but are full of death within. He isn’t dismissing order or modesty. He’s exposing surface level religion.

It’s far easier to adjust appearance than to surrender pride. It’s easier to follow visible standards than to confess hidden sin. But God sees deeper.

1 Samuel 16:7: “For the LORD does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”

We talked about how movements throughout history have sometimes drifted in this direction. Even well intentioned reform efforts can shift from heart transformation to behavior enforcement. And when external compliance replaces inward regeneration, something vital is lost.

Jesus warned of that very thing.

Matthew 15:8: “These people draw near to Me with their mouth, and honor Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me.”

Holiness is not a costume. It’s a condition of the heart. The hypocrite defends sin and protects image. The holy person confesses sin and keeps walking toward God.
Finally, we embrace a transformed testimony.
Paul says we are ambassadors.

2 Corinthians 5:20: “Now then, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were pleading through us…”

An ambassador represents a kingdom. Our goal isn’t to win arguments or defend tradition for tradition’s sake. Our goal is to represent Christ faithfully and help people be reconciled to God.
That changes our tone. It deepens our humility. It keeps us honest.
Jesus said:

Matthew 5:16: “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.”

People may not be persuaded by our words, but they will notice a changed life. They’ll see consistency. They’ll see repentance. They’ll see fruit.

Galatians 5:22–23: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control…”

Fruit takes time. Fruit grows. Fruit proves life.

We closed by returning to the image of the temple veil. For generations it hung thick and heavy, reminding people that access was limited. But when Jesus died, that veil was torn from top to bottom. God tore it. The barrier was removed.

So here’s the answer to our question.

How do we live holy lives without becoming hypocritical?

We refuse to rebuild barriers Christ tore down. We refuse to polish the surface while neglecting the heart. We pursue inward transformation that produces outward fruit.

The world doesn’t need new gatekeepers. It needs to see that the way to God has already been opened through Jesus Christ.
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– Pastor Charley Munro
Living Grace Church, Tyler, Texas

This Sunday, we finished our walk through the Beatitudes by coming to the final outcome of everything Jesus has been shaping in us.

Matthew 5:10–12 (NKJV): “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

Throughout Matthew 5, Jesus has been forming kingdom character. He’s shown us humility, repentance, meekness, a hunger for righteousness, mercy, purity, and peacemaking. But He doesn’t end with comfort. He ends by preparing us for a reality many believers don’t expect. A life shaped by Christ will eventually face resistance.

That raises an important question.

How should we respond when righteousness brings opposition?

First, we remember we’re called by Christ. Jesus isn’t talking about general hardship. He’s talking about persecution that comes from obedience. “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.” Our identity isn’t determined by the world’s reaction but by belonging to God’s kingdom. Scripture reminds us that those who desire to live godly lives will face resistance, yet even in that moment, Jesus calls us blessed.

Second, we understand we may be criticized for Christ. Jesus says, “Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake.” Following Him may bring misunderstanding, insults, or even false accusations. But criticism doesn’t define us. Christ does. When our motives are questioned or our faithfulness is misread, we stand steady, remembering that God’s approval matters more than public opinion.

Third, we live as people crowned with Christ. Jesus commands us to “rejoice and be exceedingly glad,” not because suffering is easy, but because eternity is real and our reward is secure. Trials are not wasted. God uses them to refine His people and deepen their faith. The early church understood this truth. Their courage didn’t come from avoiding pressure but from walking with Christ through it.

We ended by remembering Polycarp, an aged bishop who refused to deny Christ even when threatened with death. The early church didn’t see his suffering as defeat. They saw it as faithfulness. Most of us will never stand in a Roman arena, but every believer will face moments when obedience costs something.

The Beatitudes begin with humility, but they end with courage. They don’t form a comfortable Christianity. They form a faithful one.

Matthew 5:12 (NKJV): “Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven.”

That promise still stands.

– Pastor Charley Munro
Living Grace Church, Tyler, Texas

This Sunday, we continued our walk through the Beatitudes by focusing on one of Jesus’ most searching words for the Christian life.

Matthew 5:8 (ESV): “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”

At first, purity sounds like moral cleanliness. Most people hear “pure” and immediately think of outward behavior, private habits, clean speech, clean living. Those things matter, but Jesus is aiming deeper than behavior modification. He’s not describing the outside of a religious person. He’s describing the inner condition of someone who belongs to the kingdom of God.

As we’ve seen throughout this series, the Beatitudes are not a checklist for earning God’s favor. They describe the heart of those who have already been touched by grace. Jesus isn’t telling us how to become Christians. He is showing us what Christians look like once God has claimed them.

Biblically speaking, purity of heart is about allegiance and ownership. It’s not flawless performance. It’s being set apart for God. In Scripture, something holy is not called holy because it’s impressive. It’s called holy because it no longer belongs to common use. It has been devoted to one purpose. In the same way, a pure heart is a heart that belongs to God, undivided in its loyalty.

That’s why purity begins where most people don’t start. It begins with a new heart. God doesn’t offer to clean up the old heart and hope for the best. He promises to replace it.

Ezekiel 36:26 (ESV): “And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.”

This matters because our natural condition isn’t just imperfect. It’s spiritually dead. Paul says we were dead in trespasses and sins, living under the influence of the world and the enemy. That’s why we can’t simply try harder and become pure. You can’t polish a heart of stone into a heart of flesh. Only God can do that.

And here’s where the gospel becomes the center of everything. The solution isn’t self-improvement. The solution is Christ. A pure heart is received, not achieved. We are made clean because Jesus is clean, and because His blood cleanses fully, not temporarily.

That truth also clears up a major misunderstanding. Jesus is not saying, “If you’re good enough, maybe someday you’ll see God.” He is saying that those who belong to Him have been made fit for His presence. Justification comes first. We are made right with God by grace through faith, and that changes everything.

But a new heart doesn’t stay untouched. Once we’re justified, God begins to sanctify. This is where holiness becomes visible. Sanctification is not earning a place in the kingdom. It’s becoming what God has already declared us to be. Over time, old desires lose their grip, not always instantly, not always without struggle, but genuinely. What once entertained us can start to grieve us. What once seemed boring, prayer, Scripture, worship, begins to feel like life.

We used the picture of gold refining to describe this. Gold doesn’t start out shiny and pure. It’s buried and mixed with other elements. The refiner uses heat to bring impurities to the surface so they can be removed. The gold isn’t destroyed by the fire. It’s revealed by it. That is a picture of sanctification. God applies heat, not to harm us, but to purify us. He brings to the surface what doesn’t belong and, over time, He makes the heart reflect the Refiner.

This is where we have to keep the order straight. Holiness does not save. Faith saves. But saving faith produces change. James reminds us that even demons believe the facts about God, but they remain unchanged. True faith trusts Christ enough to surrender, obey, and be transformed. Holiness isn’t the price of admission. It’s the mark of citizenship.

Then we came to Jesus’ promise. “They shall see God.” That promise is both future and present. One day, believers will see God face to face in glory. But even now, those who belong to Christ begin to experience His presence. We learn to walk with Him. We see His hand at work. We live as citizens of another kingdom even while our feet still touch this earth.

This changes how we carry ourselves in the world. We don’t ignore earthly responsibilities, but we don’t let the world consume us either. We are ambassadors for Christ. Our identity isn’t rooted here. Our citizenship is in heaven. And that future certainty reshapes how we live right now.

We ended by returning to the guiding question: What does it mean to be pure in heart?

It means you’ve stopped trying to fix the old heart and you’ve come to Jesus to be made new. It means you belong to Him. It means your life is being refined from the inside out. And it means the promise still stands. The pure in heart will see God, not because they were good enough, but because they were made clean by grace and claimed by Christ.

Matthew 5:8 (ESV): “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”

That promise still stands.

– Pastor Charley Munro
Living Grace Church, Tyler, Texas