Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool.
I attended my church’s pre-Easter service tonight. I ran Camera One, headset and all, perched on a platform at the back of the sanctuary.
The service started a bit behind schedule. Due to the practice runs, I’d already seen and heard the service close to eight times… but as with all scripture, it entered my ears in fresh iterations.
It was the same story, over and over. Jesus condemned by Pilot, beaten within an inch of His life, given a cross, grotesquely paraded to Golgotha. Nailed to the cross. Spectators watched His life slowly drain from Him. Upon His death, the earth broke apart, and the sun went dim, and the temple curtain split in two.
His side was pierced by a spear. He was taken down. Nails removed. Covered.
And creation, His followers, God Almighty, wept.
It’s this death, and the following resurrection, that allows the sun to rise each morning, and for babies to be born, and for worms to keep aerating the soil. Without His death, we have and are nothing. Time is merely spinning out to its inevitable end.
But by dying — beautifully, gruesomely — He ensured life into eternity.
I’m not sure anything else matters quite so much.
Extra thought: I’ve been on the tech team for almost a year, and never once have I felt that the lights, cameras and musical prowess are part of a show. Or if they are, it’s only in the loosest sense of the word. It’s creative. It’s emotional. It’s meaningful, and intentional. But it’s not glitzy, flashy or manipulative. All kinds of people enter our sanctuary, and if the high-quality worship and oversized, comfortable atmosphere make them feel at home, then all the better. Some people walk into my church and call it a show; for others, this church is the reason they still believe in God.