“They Stayed”

APRIL 3, 2026

A Good Friday Word From the Desk of Rev. Dr. Maisha Handy

Good Friday is usually told as a story of abandonment. The disciples ran. The crowds shifted. Power did what power does.


And the cross stood there — public, violent, undeniable.

But if we slow down… if we read with a little more care,  there’s another truth holding this whole story together: somebody stayed.


While others scattered, the women did not. They stood at the cross, watched what others could not bear to see. They held presence when there were no words left, and they did not look away.


And here they are. Not center stage or named in every line. But present. Steady. Unmoved. They practiced what I call the ministry of staying.

They stayed in the face of violence, when hope looked like it had lost, when systems crushed life right in front of them.


And if we’re honest… that kind of staying? That’s a holy kind of strength. It’s the kind so many others have carried for generations.

It’s about showing up, about holding space. It’s carrying grief and faith in the same body. That’s not secondary to the Gospel. That is the Gospel.


Let’s tell the truth. These women didn’t have authority. They couldn’t stop what was happening. They weren’t in control of the outcome. But they refused to let the moment pass unwitnessed.


And that matters.

Because presence is power. Witness is resistance. Memory is sacred work.

When we consider the cross, we have to remember it’s more than just about salvation. It’s about what happens when power goes unchecked. And still… they stayed.

So, the question for us today isn’t just what happened on that cross? It’s: Who stayed?
Who saw it through? Who refused to let the story end in silence?


On this Good Friday, we remember the cross. But we also remember the community around it. We remember the ones who stayed. And we honor the ones who are still staying:

The ones keeping watch in hospital rooms.
The ones organizing in communities under pressure.
The pastors showing up in the middle of grief.
The neighbors refusing to leave each other behind.

That’s sacred work. That’s Gospel work. 


Good Friday doesn’t wrap things up neatly. It leaves us in the tension, in the silence, in the waiting. But it also leaves us with a witness.


Maybe the call today is simple: Stay. Stay present. Stay grounded. Stay faithful in a world that still breaks hearts.

Because even now, especially now, God is still bringing life out of death.