Tenebrae has been my favorite worship service for a long time. It is also a good place and time to tell you why I go to church.

The Tenebrae service dates back to the ninth century. One of the reasons I like this service is because it is so different. It is ancient and dramatic, and I feel the connection to people from different times and places more strongly than I do in any other service. There are readings, from Isaiah, and the passion of our Lord according to John. The music is solemn and haunting. Candles are extinguished after song and story, and eventually the room is left in darkness. After the stories and music, there is silence, which is broken when the lectionary book is slammed shut symbolizing the sealing of the tomb. No matter that I know it will happen, every time I jump. The pastor then carries a cross, a real cross, up and down the main aisle exhorting us to “Behold the life-giving cross, on which was hung the Savior of the whole world.” After more prayer, we leave in silence. There is nothing else even remotely like this solemn service.

As I listen to the story, I am conscious of being in a room right now, with these people. Then my mind shifts, and I am filled with terror as I imagine a crucifixion. And it is a nanosecond before my mind is racing all over the place, imagining torture and violent death through the ages, and realizing that, even as I sit and breathe in my seat, at that moment countless horrors are being inflicted on so many people. And it all makes me sick.

How important it is to think these things! It is not comfortable or happy, but necessary. I feel the need to be reminded, in the busyness of my life, that these things go on. How else can I do anything to help? And that brings me to the crux of why I go to church. To spend time, on purpose, to focus on love and service. To remember there is such need in all times and places, and to try to figure out what I can do to help. Because I believe that is ultimately my reason for being. To love and to serve. Church reminds me to look at my neighbor, to really look at him, and see beyond the facade to discover his pain. And try to help. Church makes me slow down for a bit and think, and look and listen the rest of the week. I become less self-involved.

And move from darkness to light.

This year, when I walked in silence to my car, I could hear one of my favorite sounds, the sounds of the ‘night-critters’, the insects of the South, filling the air with their music. It matched my mood and the mood of the service right then, a bit melancholy, but stunningly beautiful. When I started my car, Phil Collins was singing “Take Me Home’. It fit perfectly too. The song is about patients in a mental hospital. As with all art, I took in the music and words, added my own background, and make it my own. And in those moments, I felt home is when I am actively pursuing love.

And then dance!

There is another Phil Collins song, and he sings Dance With Me! Which is what I want us all to do! Dance with our bodies, our hearts, our voices, let merriment shine through our eyes, catch someone else’s hand and dance with them and bring joy in their moment! Because Tenebrae teaches us to pause and reflect. It also leaves us with a light, and hope. And a job to do. And I plan on getting to it! One moment can change someone’s heart, and change the world. A word of hope, encouragement, of thanks, can make a difference. An act of kindness. You will  never know specifically how your actions and words do this, but know they are far-reaching. I have a responsibility, and I go to church to be reminded, and encouraged, and helped to do what I can. And maybe even a bit more.

Who knew you could carry all these things at once and have them fill your heart?

Dance with me into light!