The Darkness of Easter

I just finished a phone call with a friend, and I realised as it ended I was dissatisfied with it. Why?

We didn’t get to the darkness.

Last night, I played some music and sang, and the songs that I sang were songs birthed from places of darkness.

And this coming week, Good Friday takes us into the crucifixion of Christ. It is a dark journey with an extremely dark landing.

This is a dark time in our world, a time of vast uncertainty, of loneliness, of anxiety, of the fear and reality of loss, and of confrontation with death. Darkness is present.

And something within me is wanting to get to the darkness. I want to know the pain and struggle of the people within my community, within my world. I don’t want to be walled off against the sharpness and volatility of life, which has always been present and is very much grabbing our attention right now, during the covid-19 lock-down.

So, a prayer or blessing: may you be open to the darkness that is, accepting and experiencing your life and the life of the world in its gritty reality, not shying away from the journey to the cross.

The darkness is not the end of the story, but it is the real context of our lives from which any newness to come must first go through.

May you know God’s peace through the storm.