And then another, and another and another. And then the next roll. And the next….
A view from upstairs and you can see what it is. The chairs are all gone and the tape marks the outline of where the congregation normally sits.
Why? Because Good Friday isn’t comfortable.
Then came the musicians.
Plugging in cords. Setting up microphones. Tuning the cello and the guitars.
Hey, you see those two over there? What are they doing? I don’t know.
They move from place to place around the room. Soon it’s obvious what they are doing.
They are praying. They are praying for the worshippers that will soon be coming in. .
Every one of them.
The pastors and musicians gather for prayer as people start wandering in. Some of the elderly sit in a row of chairs around the back. Everyone else sits on the floor.
Just enough light shows to help people pick out spots on the floor. Families sit in groups. Parents tell their little ones why it’s dark and why they are sitting on the floor.
Some are very comfortable on the floor, many are not. But more and more people are coming in.
It’s quiet, unusually quiet. Reflective, somber, anticipatory.
And more people come in. The ushers keep busy trying to find a place for them.
They succeed even as the empty spots get smaller and smaller. They ask and people gladly move closer together.
The minister spoke in the dark. Words of reverence and hope. Words of redemption. Words of awareness.
The music joined in – many of the musicians were playing from their heart and soul – and without any written music. The music wove itself throughout the room, turning people’s hearts to Jesus and to Good Friday.
“Were the whole realm of nature mine, that would be a present far too small.” A heartfelt admission that we are more broken than we think we are and more loved than we could ever imagine.
The seven stations of the cross – followed by a candle being extinguished. The darkness grows.
Judas betrays Jesus. The darkness grows.
Peter denies Jesus. The darkness grows.
The thief begs for salvation. The darkness grows.
Every step of the way, the darkness grows.
“Father into thy hands, I commit my spirit.
It’s late on Friday and a wise man and a believer worked with the Mary’s and get him down and buried him.
It’s Friday – but Sunday’s coming.
The pastors jointly said, “May the Lord Bless you, may the Lord make his face to shine on and keep you. Go forth in the knowledge it is currently Friday, but Sunday’s coming.
Sunday is coming and God is so so good.