A recent survey asked Americans which of the five senses they would least like to lose. 77% chose sight. Navigating life blind poses a plethora of challenges that the sighted do not face. This is why Scripture often uses the concept of blindness as a metaphor for how hard it is to navigate life without a correct understanding of Christ. Spiritual blindness can take many different forms. In some cases, it is hostile opposition to the message of Jesus. In others, spiritual blindness might be demonstrated in confusion about Jesus’ true identity. In still others, spiritual blindness might be the inability to understand our spiritual condition.

No matter the form spiritual blindness takes, Easter has the power to replace it with sight. Easter allows us to see where we sinners stand with a holy God. It enables us to see the path through life that is worth pursuing (as opposed to those that lead to a dead end). Spiritual sight gives us the ability to see who holds our future in His hands and who is worth our eternal worship. Because He lives, we can see things clearly.

Death can sting in many ways. First, death can sting by casting a shadow over every moment of life. No matter what earthly joy you are experiencing, death guarantees it won’t last. Second, death can sting by separating loves. There are no phone calls or hugs from the dead. Third, death can sting by instilling fear of what follows. Deep down, every human being senses that after death there is some sort of reckoning. . . a judgement. Yes, death can sting in many ways.

Note that word can. Because He lives, death has lost its sting for those who put their faith in the living Lord. Because Christ lives, we have all the proof we need that God accepted Jesus’ death as the complete and final payment for all our sins. Those who are in Christ need no judgment. There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ. More, Christ’s resurrection is the assurance that our Christian loved ones are not lost. Death remains unnatural. But Christ has defeated death. So, while death may still cause tears, death does not cause dread. Because He lives, death has lost its sting.

The word tenebrae means “darkness” and refers to a worship service in which the progressive extinguishing of candles represents the approaching death of Christ. The Tenebrae service is one of prolonged meditation of the suffering of Christ. The service is divided into seven chief parts. At the end of each part the sanctuary will become darker. At the end of the service, the church will be very dark. No offering will be taken during the service. As you leave in silence you may place your offering in the basket in the back of the church.

On Good Friday we remember the crucifixion and death of our Lord both with sorrow and solemn joy. Though the events of this day fill us with horror, the implications of those events give us every reason for praise. Jesus’ death had this breathtaking significance. Once and for all, it paid for the guild of all of us and for all of time. Standing in our place, our substitute was forsaken by his Father on the cross so that we could be reconciled to God and have an eternal home in heaven.

We look at Jesus on the cross, and there is sorrow. He is there because of us. He is there because he loves us that much, so much he gave us his last breath. Jesus took all our guilt into the tomb with him. It will stay there. He will not. That is why we can call this Friday good.
This year we will use a visual to help us contemplate the love of Jesus on the cross. All who wish to do so will be invited to come forward and place a nail in the cross on the main floor of church. The nail has a red ribbon attached to remind us that it was our sins that caused Jesus to shed his blood. This truth pains us. This truth causes us joy because Jesus’ life and death is the sacrifice that paid for the guilt of our sins and the sins of the whole world.

As we begin Holy Week, we see Jesus bury humanity’s endless attempts at seizing power. In our world, power dynamics are almost always in play. Those who don’t have power want it, often more than anything else. Those who have power are willing to do anything to keep it. In contrast, Jesus–who possesses all power as the Son of God–willingly surrendered His power and placed Himself in the hands of His enemies. Why? What He wanted more than anything else was not power, but you.

So, Jesus begins this Holy Week riding into Jerusalem on a donkey colt, knowing full well that He was riding to the cross. He would surrender Himself to the punishment that our sins deserved, so that through Spirit-wrought faith we might seize the glory and heaven that only He deserves.

As we begin Holy Week, we see Jesus bury humanity’s endless attempts at seizing power. In our world, power dynamics are almost always in play. Those who don’t have power want it, often more than anything else. Those who have power are willing to do anything to keep it. In contrast, Jesus–who possesses all power as the Son of God–willingly surrendered His power and placed Himself in the hands of His enemies. Why? What He wanted more than anything else was not power, but you.

So, Jesus begins this Holy Week riding into Jerusalem on a donkey colt, knowing full well that He was riding to the cross. He would surrender Himself to the punishment that our sins deserved, so that through Spirit-wrought faith we might seize the glory and heaven that only He deserves.

The heavenly Father is always present in the lives of His children. He sees every sorrow we endure. He also sees every sin that we commit, even if it’s only in our thoughts. He is always present. Yet, He is also always patient. God does not snap at us the second we turn from Him. He gives us time to see the error of our ways. He assures us that the door back to Him remains always open. By giving us room to share our struggles and shortcomings, He works in us the very repentance He desires and saves us from the judgment that would otherwise be ours.

Removing Our Guilt. “The Lord is not slow to do what he promised. . . . Instead, he is patient for your sakes, not wanting anyone to perish, but all to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). Luther began his famous debate theses noting that Scripture’s call to repentance is intended as a way of life. Using David’s great penitential Psalm 51, penned following his affair with Bathsheba and the murder of Uriah, we explore the depths of our sinful depravity, the brokenness of our relationship with God, our dire need for rescue, and the good news of forgiveness, cleansing, and rejoicing in our restored relationship with God and the promise of eternal life through Jesus our Savior. Today’s focus is on Psalm 51:8-9 and how God removes our guilt.

Whenever someone accuses us of doing wrong, it’s easy to get defensive. We make excuses. “I’m not that bad.” We try and balance the scales. “Okay, that was wrong. But look at all the good I do!” We play the comparison game. “At least I’m not like him!” When our defenses go up, repentance is impossible.

God, however, has a strategy for lowing our defenses. He assures us that his door is open, and that his home is the place where we don’t need to pretend to be something that we’re not—perfect. Our Father does not ask us to come to him and confess our sin so that he might know what we’ve done. He already knows. He asks us to repent so that we might fully know what we’ve done. Only when we grasp the true weight of our sin, will we call out to God for mercy. When we do, God is always quick to forgive.

Ash Wednesday marks the begging of Lent, reminding us of our mortality and calling us to repent. The ancient practice of imposing ashes on the foreheads of the faithful is what gives Ash Wednesday its name. The church father Tertullian (c. A.D. 160-215) writes of the practice as a public expression of repentance and of our human frailty that stands in need of Christ. Ashes can remind us forcefully of our need for redeeming grace as they recall words from the rite of Christian burial—“earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”—words that will someday be spoken over us all.