[Texts: Isaiah 52:13-53:12, Psalm 22, Hebrews 10:16-25, John 18:1-19:42]
And now we wait, with trembling, bated breath,
Enveloped in a bitter, starless night,
As our Lord falls into the clutch of death,
And darkness seems to suffocate the light.
What hope is there? We wonder wordlessly,
Afraid to name our deepest doubts aloud.
Does this mean death has claimed the victory?
Is this the end: the cross, the tomb, the shroud?
And the alternative? Dare we contend
That love’s last dying breath has not been heard?
Dare we believe that this is not the end?
That somehow, God might still have the last word?
And so tonight, uncertain of our fate,
With fragile hope that ceases not, we wait.