“The Lamb” by Low appears halfway through their 2002 album Trust (which cover-art also features a naked arm outstretched as though awaiting crucifixion). Lyrically, the dirge is a double-allusion to both Joseph Smith going “as a lamb to the slaughter” in 1844 just before the exodus to Utah (“You go west/Where they won’t found you”), as well as to Christ Himself, the Lamb of God (“feed my children/With my remains/In the Holy Temple”), who was slain for the sins of the world, and whose example Smith was following—as we all must.

Of the two men, the main focus of the song is clearly on Christ; the steadily increasing sound of the drum that predominates the second-half of the song is obviously intended to mimic the sound of a hammer driving the nails into the cross. It is a stark reminder of just what it means to pick up thy cross and follow Him.

We don’t really do Good Friday in this Church, for largely the same reason we eschew the cross as a religious symbol: we prefer to keep the focus on the absolute miracle of Christ’s resurrection, not the rather mundane fact of His death. (We all die, after all; Low’s own Mimi Parker lately reminded us of that.)

But every so often it’s useful for us to remember (to quote Alma) that if we are to experience “nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy,” we must first experience “nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains,” for there must needs be “opposition in all things.” The brutality of the crucifixion is as necessary as the glory of the Resurrection–that is, Good Friday is as necessary as Easter morning–both metaphorically and literally, both individually and collectively. “I am the Lamb/And I’m a dead man” sings Low–we all are. That also means we will all rise again.