Ever since I was a child, I was taught that Christmas and Easter are the most significant time of the year for Christians. As I have grown closer to GOD, I see how both seasons proclaim the same divine truth: light breaking into darkness. At Christmas, the light of the North Star guided the Magi to the infant Jesus. In the Book of Genesis, GOD spoke light into the void, piercing the darkness. At Easter, we celebrate the dawn of new life and hope, dispelling the darkness that swept over when Jesus died and the ground shook. For my family, these seasons have always carried both joyful and painful memories. My sister passed away during Holy Week, the day after Good Friday, before my younger brother and I was born. Her absence has been a quiet ache in my parents’ hearts and silently has shaped the way we enter into these sacred days.
From a young age, I remember my mom preparing Pesaha appam and paal (milk) on Holy Thursday. It is a tradition rooted deep in our Syrian Christian Heritage, in remembrance of the Passover that Jesus shared with his disciplines before HIS arrest. On the morning of Holy Thursday, my mom would tidy up the kitchen, then begin with a quiet prayer before she starts cooking. She stays in that spirit of prayer as she makes the appam and milk. Watching her, I always thought of Mother Mary’s steadfast and forgiving nature even in the shadow of suffering. After moving to Philly, I missed these simple moments of Holy Week, but GOD has blessed me in new ways to enter into this season.
Last Lent, I attended a retreat where as part of one of the hands-on-activities, we were each given a pebble stone to write our qualities, flaws and burdens upon. And once ready, we washed the stone in a basin, mirroring how Jesus washed the disciples’ feet. It was a small act but deeply symbolic, an invitation to let GOD cleanse what weighs us down.
That same Holy Week, I experienced the Tenebrae service for the first time at my parish Latin Church on Good Friday. It was a solemn and heavy experience.
As it is written in Luke 23:44 “And it was about the sixth hour; and there was darkness (Tenebrae) over all the earth until the ninth hour.”
The service walked us through Christ’s journey to the cross in Scripture, song, and the Lamentations of Jeremiah, which mourns the destruction and desolation of Jerusalem. As Christians, we believe Christ is the new temple, which is why HE said in John 2:19 “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.”The lament is not just about the ruin of Jerusalem, but about the crucifixion and death of Christ, and HIS body which is the true temple that was abused and destroyed.
During the Tenebrae, a server in a black cloak, wearing heavy boots, walks out after each reading, creating the echoing stomp noise (strepitus). As the candles are extinguished one by one following every anthem, the darkness deepens until only the final candle remains. Instead of extinguishing the last candle, the server removes that last light from the triangular stand and hides it behind the altar. Then comes a loud, jarring noise, symbolizing the earthquake that follows afterwards. This final act symbolizes Christ’s death, burial, and descent into hell to bring salvation to the righteous who died before him. And ultimately, the hidden light returns, just as Christ rose again on the third day. This service stays with me deeply each time because I know what it is to feel the weight of darkness. The same darkness and grief that my parents have felt on that particular Good Friday when my sister died. Yet even in that grief, light was already on its way. My mom soon learned she was pregnant with me, and by the following Christmas she almost due.
In my own walk with GOD, I have faced seasons of loneliness and isolation. At times I ran from him, only to be drawn back through communities like Jesus Youth and the young adult group at my parish, where friends help keep me grounded in my faith. Every year, Tenebrae reminds me that the darkness of Good Friday is never the end of the story. The hidden light always returns. And the Resurrection assures me that no matter how deep the shadow, the dawn will come. And it comes with the unwavering truth that Christ has conquered death, and His light will never be overcome.
With Abba 
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