I’d never been to a service quite like this before.
So incredibly somber.
Almost like a funeral.
Ending in complete darkness and hopelessness.
Every so often, something new comes around for me.
Something I’ve never seen or experienced before joining Asbury.
Tenebrae is just the most recent.
A service of shadows.
To observe the darkness that Good Friday represented.
Following the journey of Jesus Christ from the garden to the grave.
But no further.
Because Sunday hasn’t come.
I’d never experienced a Good Friday service quite like that before.
So powerful and moving.
Yet, somehow completely devoid of hope.
That must be how the disciples felt, right?
This leader of theirs who they had followed for years…
This leader of theirs who they had believed was the Messiah…
This leader of theirs who they had sworn to die for, but later they would deny…
He was dead.
And they are left in fear, hopeless and confused.
This really stuck with me.
How often do we find ourselves in fear, hopeless and confused?
How often do we find ourselves questioning whether this Savior of ours is really alive?
How often do we find ourselves living as though He is still dead?
How perfectly can we relate to the disciples here?
Only one problem…
In their case, Jesus really was dead.
Sunday hadn’t come.
He is ALIVE!
We live in a post-resurrection world.
We live in a time when the recognition of the crucifixion is merely symbolic.
We cover the cross in black and extinguish candles to remind ourselves of what Christ has done, not what He is doing.
But somehow, as a Church, we’ve managed to live in a world of perpetual Saturdays.
Believing that Jesus came.
Believing the things Jesus taught.
Believing that He did indeed die for our sins.
We don’t believe the tomb is still occupied.
We will celebrate the resurrection tomorrow, but do we truly live in its power?
Or, are we living like it’s still Saturday: in fear, hopeless and confused?
Peace and love.