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As a child, I pondered this question after the earliest Sunday School lesson I can remember about the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.

At the little country church I attended in rural Jefferson Davis County, my preacher had a unique tradition — one I haven’t seen in any other church I’ve ever been to. He would call all of the children up to the front of the church before his sermon.

He then gave a mini-sermon — a condensed and child-friendly version of what he would preach on that Sunday. He often used visual examples of what he was talking about.

I’ll never forget the day he brought a large and rusty-looking iron stake. One end was flat like a nail head and the other end was pointy but too dull to hurt anyone. It was at least six inches long and he passed it around to the little children and told them to imagine it piercing straight through the hands and feet of Jesus.

When it got to me, I pressed the pointed side into my palm as hard as I could and tried to imagine someone with a sledgehammer driving it through. It hurt, but not in my hand. That image in my head hurt my heart and has forever stuck with me.

But there my preacher sat, with his soothing kid-talk voice and a big smile on his face, while he described the brutal execution of a death sentence.

I thought about how on Easter Sunday, I would wake up to a basket stuffed with plastic eggs full of candy and some prize like a Barbie or baby doll. After church, all of my aunts, uncles and cousins would gather at my grandparents’ house and together we would feast on ham, potato salad and banana pudding and Jell-o shaped like Easter eggs for dessert.

I thought, what does any of that have to do with the murder Brother Ken Roberts just talked about? So, I asked him, “Why are people happy that Jesus died?”

His answer was, “We’re not so happy that he died, but the fact that he died so that we could live eternally with him. Because God loved us so much that he made the ultimate sacrifice by sending his son to die for us.”

Good Friday, though it marks a gloomy and mournful occasion, is called that because God is good. It’s a day that the ultimate loving sacrifice was made for our redemption.  Then, on Sunday — the day we all really celebrate — was when Jesus came back to life to seal the deal.

Still, I sometimes wonder what is so good about Good Friday.

It’s not so much the “good” part that bothers me, but the lack of any kind of acknowledgement by most people of what transpired on the Friday before Easter, which has become a secular holiday as much as a Christian one. Some will hold traditions with their church like the Passover feast to remember God’s sacrifice, but many others will sit at home or continue about their usual workday if their job doesn’t observe Good Friday as a holiday.

Today, I implore you all to think about what happened on Good Friday so that on Sunday, we’re not just celebrating the Easter Bunny and stuffing ourselves with extra calories for nothing.

Without Good Friday, there could be no Easter Sunday.

Sabrina Robertson is a staff reporter at The Natchez Democrat. She can be reached at sabrina.robertson@natchezdemocrat.com