March 28 - Tenebrae

Another one of the Holy Week services that I find really resonant, little sweetheart, is something called Tenebrae. I’d never attended one or even knew about it until the first one I went to at St. Thomas, in 2012, I think. It’s usually held on either Holy Wednesday or Holy Thursday and is a service of readings and choral pieces.

Not unlike Taize, it’s a candlelight service and as it goes on, one of the candles in the candle stand on the altar is extinguished at the conclusion of each reading until the last, when the church is left in darkness and a very theatrical moment occurs, The Strepitus - which is Latin for “great noise”. The choir bang their hymnals on the railings, the organ plays loud and discordantly, all in a kind of protest at the darkening of the light. Then, one of the ministers or priests comes forward with one last candle, still burning, that had been hidden. And all depart in silence.

West End observed Tenebrae and I went each year. Since the pandemic, like with most of these services now, little sweetheart, I watch the one from Trinity online, as I did tonight. Thinking of you, as always, and saying our prayer.
 

Holy Maundy Thursday

I think Maundy Thursday is perhaps the most resonant of all the days of Holy Week for me, little sweetheart, because of the Tenebrae service, which I only first knew of a few years ago. 

Not unlike Taize, the sanctuary is lit almost exclusively by candlelight and then, as each subsequent reading or hymn is offered, one of the candles is extinguished until just one is left, a hidden candle, leaving the sanctuary in darkness. The choir bang their hymnals and the organ sounds discordantly until the sole hidden candle is revealed and brought forward in procession and all leave in silence. 

It’s incredibly dramatic and moving and so rich in symbolism and resonance, little sweetheart, as concerns loss and grief and ultimately, faith. I haven’t been able to attend a in-person Tenebrae in several years now but tonight I’ll watch one broadcast online from Trinity Church downtown and my thoughts will be of you. 

With all my love.  
 

Tenebrae

Today is Holy Wednesday, little sweetheart, and the service - Tenebrae - that some observe today and others tomorrow - is one of the most fascinating and moving of them all. 

I’d never attended a Tenebrae service or even known of it until about ten years ago when I went to the one at St Thomas. St Thomas is rather High Episcopal and kind of grand, not in a bad way, but my whole experience there was more observational than participatory. When I discovered West End the following year, it was a good deal more intimate and I felt more engaged than just spectating, if that makes sense. 

In both services, indeed in all Tenebrae services, I think, the sanctuary is almost solely illuminated by candlelight. A big candelabra is usually center and as the service progresses through readings and song, the candles are extinguished one by one. After the very last reading, when the final candle is blown out, a tremendous cry goes up! The organ plays loud and discordantly, the choir bang their hymnals on the railings - until one sole candle returns, usually from on high, where it had been hidden. Then, in silence, all depart. 

Like all the services this week, little sweetheart, and as it’s been since the pandemic began, I’m not able to attend but instead am watching remotely. Grace Church, way downtown near Battery Park, has lovely services and film them so beautifully it’s almost as if one is there. I watched tonight and read along from here at my desk. It was very moving and, as ever, I feel brings me ever closer to you. 

With all my love forever.  

Blessed Art Those Who Mourn

All through Holy Week, little sweetheart, I’ve been setting out something to watch or listen to. 

Tenebrae is on Holy Thursday and I’d never been to a service until about ten years ago. It’s intensely meaningful. 

There are readings and songs and a single candle from a candelabra is extinguished after each other until the sanctuary is in darkness and everyone leaves silently. This year and last there hasn’t been an opportunity to attend one because of the pandemic but a couple of years ago Grace Church downtown. Even before the pandemic, they filmed and broadcast online many of their services and this Tenebrae in particular is lovely and moving. I watched it last year and again tonight. 

Holy Thursday is an especially poignant time in Holy Week and all of it just helps me quiet down and think of you, bringing me closer to you, leaving distractions aside, focusing. I listen for you voice and I hear you call. 

With all my love forever.

Holy Week '21

This is the start of Holy Week, little sweetheart, and I’ll be thinking of you, as always, as I observe it. Everything is still shut down, so there are no services to attend but there are things to watch online - live services and some archival ones. 

I like to listen to the original album, The Brown Album, of "Jesus Christ Superstar", at some point. And I remember always you’re meeting Ted Neely, who played Jesus on Broadway, in the film and was still doing on and off, hence your meeting him in a bar after a performance in SF. 

I’ll tell you about Tenebrae, little sweetheart, later. I never knew about it until a few years ago. It’s on Holy Thursday. And another night on Holy Saturday is the Great Vigil. That’s kind of remarkable, too. 

In all these things, like always, my thoughts fly to you. As I hope someday soon I will myself. With all my love forever.