Tenebrae

Laureen and I did something unusual tonight: we went to a church service just to go to it. We didn’t go for the music, the minister, or because we were serving in some capacity. We just went. And it was different.

Every year, Laureen’s old Lutheran school’s church does a pantheon of services during the Holy Week, and the Friday service represents darkness, which is what Tenebrae means. The service starts out in full light, and seven candles are lit at the front. At different points during the service, each candle is snuffed out, and the lights dim a bit more. The cross is already covered with black fabric, and the entire effect is a reminder that Jesus’ spirit, represented by that last light, left his body when he died. It’s a beautiful and haunting service, but it did point out some of the vast differences in Springcreek and “normal” churches.

I don’t know if it’s fair to call Zion Lutheran a normal church, since Lutherans are remarkably close to their Catholic brethren in rites and rituals during the service. This church is fond of music: tonight’s service featured a handbell introit, 5 hymns (with ALL verses sung, none of this skipping the odd verse for the faithful), three choral pieces accompanied by organ, flute, and violin… it was moving, but also really, really long.

I suppose I’m somewhat critical of religious styles due to a relatively short patience span: if I get the concept, you don’t have to hit me over the head with it again. But not all people are like me. I’ve found this out the hard way.