In Cyprus, we spend a whole 50 days gearing up for Easter. It starts with feasting on Tsiknopempti, rolls through Tyrini, and then Green Monday kicks off 40 days of fasting. Finally, there’s an entire week of “Holy” days. Flaounes have been baked. Eggs have been dyed (and if they haven’t, what are you waiting for?). Schools have been closed just long enough for parents to begin questioning their life choices.
Today is Good Friday.
There’s no lamb roasting on the spit. No egg-cracking competitions. No chocolate. No celebration.
So what, exactly, are we marking?
A teacher recently shared a story about one of her pupils, who solemnly explained that when Jesus entered Jerusalem, the British threw olives at him, and then the Turks crucified him. Cyprus has its share of complicated history with both nations, but that version is… creative.
It’s funny, until you realise what it reveals.
Cyprus is a nation steeped in tradition. Through its long history of conquerors, the Church has been instrumental in preserving not only the faith, but our history, language, and culture.
We keep the traditions. We dye the eggs. We line up for the Epitaphios. We mumble “Kali Anastasi” to each other in shops. Maybe your work hands out pretty candles. But somewhere along the way, the story has become the sideshow to its own holiday.
“The British Threw Olives”
The Sunday before Easter is called Palm Sunday. And just for clarity, I think we can all agree olives do not grow on palm trees. When Jesus entered Jerusalem, riding on a donkey- an ancient symbol of a king who arrived in peace, not conquest- people lined the streets to celebrate him. They sang songs of praise- “Hosanna in the highest”. They waved palm branches. They laid them in the road for him to ride over. It was the week of Passover, a major Jewish festival marking their freedom from slavery in Egypt, and the man who had come to set them free again had arrived. Expectations were high. Hope was louder than doubt.
Celebrity is a fickle thing.
On Thursday evening, he sat down to share the Passover meal with his disciples- the meal now famously dubbed The Last Supper. By Friday morning, the tide had turned.
“The Turks Crucified Him”
Well… not quite. That would be the Romans. The Jewish people at the time were living under Roman rule. Crucifixion was a Roman method of execution- public, brutal, designed as a warning. It was the empire’s way of saying: this is what happens when you challenge power.
It was also political. Jesus had been hailed as “King of the Jews.” Rome had already installed Herod Antipas as king, Pontius Pilate was prefect, and Tiberius Caesar was emperor. There was no room for another king.
By Friday afternoon, they had crucified him. By sundown, he was dead.
There is no triumph in that moment. No miracle (yet). No light breaking through. Just grief. Confusion. Fear. Silence.
And that is what Good Friday asks us to sit with.
From churches across Cyprus tonight, the Epitaphios- the flower-covered bier representing Christ’s tomb- will be carried through the streets. People will follow slowly behind it. The hymns will be low and mournful. Even those who rarely attend church tend to show up for this one.
It feels less like a celebration and more like a funeral procession. It’s meant to. Friday isn’t about celebrating; it’s about remembering; about counting the cost.
So… what makes Friday ‘good’?
Sunday is Coming
Friday is good because it wasn’t the end.
On Saturday night, many of us stand in church at midnight, in the dark, in the silence, candles unlit. It’s a moment that can feel awkward- the waiting, the not knowing. 2,000 years ago, Jesus’ disciples were also gathered through the night, praying, grieving, not knowing what came next.
And then, there’s light. Fire, passing from one candle to another, spreading like the news itself: “Christos Anesti.” Christ is Risen.
I love a good plot twist.
We’ve read the book. We know how the story ends.
The silence is not permanent. The grief is not final. The cross is not the conclusion. The story does not end in death; it ends in life. In hope. And yes- in egg cracking, flaounes, lamb roasting, and chocolate.
Friday is good, because Sunday is coming.
Also read: Organisations provide aid to vulnerable communities for Easter
For more videos and updates, check out our YouTube channel
