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Tenebrae

Friday, April 19, 2019

From Isaiah 53
He was harshly treated, but he submitted, and opened not his mouth. The Lord was pleased to crush him in infirmity. He gives his life as an offering for sin.

Nine a.m. on Friday, Jesus finishes his talks with Pilate. "I find no fault in this man."

But no matter. "Crucify him!" the priests and people cry. "Give us Barrabbas!" Pilate washes his hands, sighs deeply, and hands Jesus over to the soldiers. The Benedictine monks call this hour "Terce," and pray.

Noon on Friday. Jesus is at last nailed to the wooden cross. His hands are torn, his feet are ripped apart by the old spikes. His head is crowned with thorns, and a crude sign is nailed above him: "Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews." Soldiers hoist his cross up into the sun. Jesus looks out on all of us, and we look up at him. The monks call this time "Sext," and they pray.

Three on Friday. Jesus dies. The sky grows black, the temple curtain torn in two. Jesus' head hangs on his chest, and the soldiers come and pierce him through, just to assure his death. Joseph and Nicodemus receive permission to bury him in their tomb, and awkwardly remove his body from the cross. The monks call this time "None."

During the reading of the Passion story, church instructions often read: "Here all kneel and pause for a short time." And we do. Jesus is no longer with us. "It is finished," he said as he bowed his head and died.

The days to celebrate the wedding feast are gone. Now is the time to weep; these are the days of death and loss. We have lost what matters most, and God has left us all alone. There's a final service in some churches to mark this moment. It's called "Tenebrae."

We are in Austin to stay with our grandson Miles for awhile. A nearby Catholic church, St. Thomas More, will hold this service at 8 pm tonight. It's a first for them, and this is what they say:

Tenebrae, Latin for darkness, is a service with a long history in the Catholic Church, especially in the Monastic tradition. It is a service of readings, psalms and music done in candlelight, with candles being extinguished one by one as the service proceeds. At the end of the service, the last candle, called the "Christ Candle" is moved behind the altar. The Choir sings Psalm 51, Miserere, or "Have Mercy," and then a noise is made called the "Strepitus" which symbolizes the earthquake and tearing of the curtain of the temple at the death of Jesus. The service concludes with the Christ Candle being brought back to the Altar, and all leave in silence. It is a very dramatic service that allows us to walk with Christ in his passion.

Should I go? Let the darkness get under my skin? To hear the cries of Jesus, walk the stations of the cross and finally watch in silence as one candle and then another are extinguished ... these rituals are hard for me. The there's tomorrow's vigil ... the days of Triduum go on and on.

My friend Anne reminded me that if Jesus was really killed on Wednesday, the day before Passover, his disciples waited far longer than we do for Jesus' grave to be open, emptied. And they had no idea what was coming. They were in agony. But just this week, I learned something new about that word. Originally, "agony" meant "the mental struggle toward victory."

There's no hurry, but Sunday's coming.

Jesus, where are you right now? I miss you and wish I had spent more time listening, following, sitting at your feet, watching all the ways you did what your Father was doing. I want to spend this day with my memories of you. Jesus, With all I have, and all that I am, I honor you.



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