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April 21, 2011

Tenebrae

I’m looking forward to going to church tonight. For the second time, I’ll be joining my friend Barb at the Tenebrae service at Old North (United Church of Christ).

Last year, I had no idea what a Tenebrae service was. It’s part of Holy Week? Never heard of it.

Barb said it was simple and powerful. And, that I would like it. I decided to go.

Old North is the church I go to when I don’t go to an Episcopal Church. Many of my friends worship here. I enjoy their Christmas Eve service of lessons and carols; their holiday concert is a ‘don’t miss’ event. Easter Morning, Bill and I often join the worshippers atop Old Burial Hill celebrating Christ’s resurrection as the sun rises over Marblehead Harbor.

When we enter the sanctuary I notice the candles burning on the simple altar. They, and the fading daylight, offer the only illumination. Old North’s roots date back to 1635; the current Church was built in 1825. The church’s early New England heritage is evident in its design – a large, nearly square room, with 10’ clear glass, multi-paned windows, and simple ornamentation.

The minister and lay readers enter in silence and sit at the front of the room. In turn, each stands and reads, then extinguishes a candle. The light outside fades, the church darkens. We sit in silence, listening to the power of the texts.

“Almighty God, we pray you graciously to behold this your family, for whom our Lord Jesus Christ was willing to be betrayed, and given into the hands of sinners, and to suffer death upon the cross.”

The room is dark.

Then…BANG!

A loud jarring noise shatters the silence as a small glowing light appears on the altar.

“Qué susto!” My entire body reacts.

I don’t have the words to describe the powerful feeling that came over me at that moment. “You are all alone, it’s like the door slamming,” says the Jep Streit, dean of St. Paul’s Cathedral in Boston. “It symbolizes the panic of the disciples, and their abandonment of Christ.”

The minister and lay readers leave quietly, followed by the congregation. We leave the building in silence, eyes cast down avoiding eye contact. Barb and I drive home in silence.