| Reflection: |
Worship began by candlelight.
In a darkened sanctuary we listened to scripture, prayed quietly, and
sang somber chants. On the eve of Easter, the crucifixion of Christ hung
heavily in the air. It was a solemn service—as I had anticipated. I
expected to leave in darkness and silence, still mourning the loss of
Christ and still hoping for the dawning of Easter morning. But then...
Light flooded the room. The white and gold paraments gleamed on the
altar. Music resonated within the walls. The organ burst forth with the
hymn "Jesus Christ is Risen Today." Bells rang with every utterance of
praise. Alleluia! Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!
I wasn't expecting the resurrection.
I was reminded that even in our darkest moments and during the most
sorrowful nights, the power of God's love breaks through. We know the
ending of the Easter story. We know that the morning will come. Yet, we
still wrestle with the darkness questioning: But when? How long?
We cling to hope, we wait for mercy, we pray for God's peace, we hold
onto the promise of resurrection. The morning will come. Perhaps
unexpectedly. With the trumpeting of Easter worship or with the silence
of daybreak, Christ rises and walks with us. |