The Weight of Worship

Last night, our congregation gathered for a Service of Tenebrae, a time of worship using the extinguishing of candles to symbolically represent the last hours of Christ, and his subsequent crucifixion. It is a simple service, built entirely around and upon the gospel texts. Music is subdued and acapella. The church paraments and furnishings are removed. It is stark. As the service continues through communion, as the story unfolds and the lights are extinguished, the power and awe of the holy night becomes real and vivid.

At the end of the story, when Christ breathes his last on the cross, the Christ Candle (the only light in the sanctuary at this late stage of the story) is escorted out of the sanctuary (not to reappear until Easter morning) by an acolyte. At that point, in the fading darkness of the departing candle, I had the responsibility/privilege to drape the cross at the front of the sanctuary in a black cloth. As I walked down the center aisle to do so, with this sheer fabric in my arms, the Spirit moved in my own heart in an extremely profound way. Rather than being weightless, this sheer black material in my arms felt as heavy as iron. As I approached the cross, and raised the cloth, I wondered if I was strong enough to acomplish the task.

For a brief moment, I was given a glimpse into the weight of worship on such a sacred night. Praise be to God for the gift of his Holy Spirit.