I sat on a hard white pew the evening of Maundy Thursday, large shutters of the clear glass windows closed against the street lights.  We huddled together in a dim, candlelit sanctuary; choir, congregation, scripture readers, and the pastor who led us through the story drawn from all four Gospels about the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.

I know this story well.  It is  a story of betrayal meeting love, denial confronting faith, obedience crashing against willfulness.  It is a story of fearful disciples, power-hungry religious leaders, and corrupt political leaders.  It is a story that tears at my heart and bruises my soul.  You see, God’s love entered this world and we, humanity, killed it.  The terrible injustice, torture, abuse, mockery, beating and execution of God’s son continues to be meted out to the poorest and the most oppressed in this world.  On this darkest night, it seems as though nothing has changed.  The powers of violence, racism, injustice and oppression circle us, roaring like a hungry lion.

And there in the silence after the mournful notes of “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”  … There in the anguish after the pounding of nails into flesh, through bone, into wood …  There in that moment of grief and loss and despair…  Quiet piano notes softly trilled as “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” was played.  Yes… yes… yes…  It is only this.  The only response to such darkness is beauty.

My soul was cradled in beauty.  I took a deep breath and walked out again into the night.