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A service of darkness
The Service of Tenebrae beckons us into the shadows.
In the still hours of Good Friday, the Service of Tenebrae beckons us into the shadows. How should we observe the sacrifice that happened that day, a sacrifice of the immortal for mortal humankind? All of history pointed to that moment when the Son of God hung on a cross, suspended between the heaven he had left and the earth he had come to redeem. God promised to “remove the sin of this land in a single day” (Zechariah 3:9). But the cost? The death of the Creator for the creation.
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We best observe this day by pondering our sin and meditating on the goodness and grace of our God. Rightly, Good Friday is the most solemn day of the church year, and our services that day lead us to Golgotha, where we as worshipers stand witness to the Lamb of God bearing the sin of the world. A Service of Tenebrae on Good Friday offers a time of austerity but not despair—one of deep reflection, yet one that radiates certain hope.
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The word tenebrae comes from the Latin for “shadows” or “darkness.” Rooted in monastic practice dating back to the ninth century, Tenebrae was a service of prayer, psalms, and Scripture readings observed in the final days of Holy Week. Over time, its most striking feature—the gradual extinguishing of candles—emerged as a poignant symbol of Christ’s suffering and death.
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A service of hope
In the darkness of the cross, the light of salvation shines brightest.
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The Strepitus—a loud noise near the end of the Tenebrae service—startles us out of our meditation on Christ’s death and burial. We watch as the seventh candle is returned to the sanctuary to burn there even after we have left.
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Jesus had just handed the crossbeam to Simon of Cyrene who would carry it the rest of the way to the site of crucifixion. Noticing the women who were wailing along the route, he said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your . . .
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You can learn volumes about a man by watching him die. Time is more precious than ever. It’s no occasion for small talk; only the most important words are worth his dying breaths. What are his priorities in these final hours? What wisdom needs to be shared . . .
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“FINISHED!” the young boy yells to his mom as he slams his math notebook closed and heads outside. “Finished!” says the couple as they breathe a sigh of relief after sending in their tax returns. Just think of that relief and release you feel when you can say, . . .
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