Even in the dark, a light shines forth

One by one, the candles go out, dragging the church into shadows and, finally, utter darkness. All is still and quiet. And then, the door slams shut.

This Good Friday, several parishes will hold Tenebrae services, also called the Service of Shadows.

While many think Tenebrae is a new liturgical development, the service dates back to the early days of monastic life, when the various parts of the Liturgy of the Hours - compline (night prayer), matins (daily prayer) and lauds (sunrise prayer) - were combined into one service for the last days of Holy Week. Even today, Tenebrae services follow the form of the Daily Office said in religious communities around the world.

Use of the word "tenebrae" dates back to at least the seventh century, while the service itself seems to have developed a bit earlier. "Tenebrae" comes from a Latin word meaning darkness - all forms of darkness, ranging from blindness to gloom to the darkness of death.

The service itself -which is not to be a substitute for the Good Friday Liturgy of the Lord's Passion - takes part in three nocturns. Each nocturn includes readings from Scriptures and the Psalms and reciting of the Lord's Prayer. Centrally placed in the church at least seven candles glow. At certain points, usually following the Lord's Prayer, the candles are extinguished one by one. Finally, the Passion according to John is read. Another candle is quenched, leaving only the Christ candle.

Then Psalm 51 is read: "Have mercy on me, God." At the psalm's conclusion, the Christ candle is removed from the church and a loud noise is heard, sometimes accompanied by confused shouting.

The service ends when the Christ candle is returned, one light against all the darkness.

Death, specifically the death of Jesus, is central to Tenebrae. Not only is this evident from the reading of the Passion, but is driven home by the strepitus, the loud, sudden sound meant to mimic the closing of a tomb. (Interestingly, the strepitus was originally the sound the abbot made to signal the end of service for the silent monks. It later developed deeper meaning than non-verbal dismissal.)

But whose death and what darkness are we remembering?

Is it only Jesus' death, or our own - and all the deaths that have touched us - that we feel as the dark deepens? Is it only night that dims our eyes, or the darkness of sin and separation from God that is symbolized?

The last reading of the Tenebrae service is always Psalm 51. Also called the Miserere, this foremost of the penitential psalms is also used on Ash Wednesday. So it brackets, as it were, our Lenten journey.

Why?

The Miserere reminds us of God's endless mercy.

Psalm 51 consists of two parts. The New American Bible, study edition, explains that "the first part (3-10) asks deliverance from sin, which is not just a past act but its emotional, physical and social consequences. The second part (11-19) seeks something more profound than wiping the slate clean: nearness to God, living by the spirit of God."

"With the words of the Miserere psalm," Pope John Paul explained in an Ash Wednesday homily in 1997, "the sinner not only accuses himself of his own sins, but at the same time begins a new creative journey the way of conversion. To be converted means to enter into deep intimacy with God."

Intimacy with God. Living by the spirit of God. That is what conversion seeks. As Psalm 51 pleads: "A clean heart create for me, God" (v. 12).

While it is a penitential psalm, the Miserere ends on a joyful note, with the hope of a rebuilt Jerusalem and a prosperous Zion.

In the same way, the solemn service of shadows leaves us with a glimmer of hope. At the very end of the Tenebrae service, the Christ candle returns. In the face of death, the promise of resurrection shines. God's great "Nevertheless" speaks out in the darkness.

We remember Christ's death and his burial in the tomb, we anticipate our own deaths and feel the oppression of the sin that separates us from God. We remember our need for deliverance. But as we leave the Tenebrae service, the small, beckoning light - that will soon flare at the Easter Vigil, touching all who hold candles - remains. The promise is fulfilled.

Pope John Paul, in his encyclical on God's mercy, states that Christ is that mercy personified. Through his resurrection, mercy is poured out on us. "Here is the Son of God, who in his resurrection experienced in a radical way mercy shown to himself, that is to say the love of the Father which is more powerful than death. And it is also the same Christ, the Son of God, who at the end of his messianic mission. reveals himself as the inexhaustible source of mercy" ("Rich in Mercy", no. 93).

God's mercy - fully revealed in the risen Christ - awaits us. Easter is near.

That one small candle on Good Friday night reminds us of St. Augustine's words about God's mercy, the mercy we pray for in Psalm 51: "It has gone before us that we may be healed, and follows us so that, once healed, we may be given life; it goes before us so that we may be called and follows us so that we may be glorified; it goes before us so that we may live devoutly, and follows us so that we may always live with God" (The Nature of Grace).

For parishes offering Tenebrae services, see the Holy Week Mass schedules.