“In Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:4-5 NIV)
Yesterday, I went to church. Well, sort of. I went on my evening walk, which has become my routine in this past year or so. It turns out a few minutes outdoors each day affords the soul a bit more perspective and peace.
In my wandering, I happened upon the local Catholic church. I was admiring the architecture outside when I started to wonder about mass and their response to the pandemic. I noted a bulletin posted and went closer to read it; mass and confession are cancelled, but the church is still open, please maintain social distance. The bunny trail beckoned, and in a moment I had slipped in the dark sanctuary, compelled by need to connect with Creator.
In many countries, churches are open to strangers. In France and Portugal, Israel and even Turkey I’ve ducked in every sanctuary I could. I’ve decided that church buildings are like congregational fingerprints, no two are alike. I love to see the creativity in spiritual expression unique to each part of the body. When I find an open church door, I tend to walk through it.
The sanctuary that afternoon was dark. Dreary, even. It was Black Saturday, late the day and the clouds had never given way to the sun. The pew was cool and inviting and I bowed my head in the shadows to pray, grateful for a place to soothe my soul, tattered by the loss and sorrow from round the globe. With no living parents left, the church has become my Father’s house; the place I bring all my joys and concerns. No matter where I am in the world, when I step in a church, I’ve come home.
I finished my prayer and lifted my head, only to be met by the shining cross. The chancel was dark, too dark, but the cross gleamed almost excessively. I realized it with a start and wrote it down before I’d forget:
In the dark, Jesus shines brightest.
My photos don’t do it justice; the juxtaposition between the dark of the chancel and the pure bright light of the cross. Today, in the midst of world pandemic and unprecedented fear; the cross of Christ shines even brighter. Our world is dark and marked by death, but Jesus is the dazzling light that leads us Home. His light is a beacon of hope to those that are suffering.
“When Jesus spoke again to the people, He said “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows Me will never walk in darkness, but have the light of life.” (John 8:12 NIV)
Lord, it feels today like that dark sanctuary; we are mired in gloom and doom. But the truth is, the cross shines brightest in the dark. Help us look up this Easter. Help us to see Your truth, Your sacrifice, Your white-hot hope of resurrection. We look to You to light the way out of the night and into eternity. Amen.