Midnight. The church is quiet, dark. The sacrament is gone from the altar of repose, and shortly the candles will be extinguished, though already it feels as if the light has left Gethsemane. It is cold. The disciples have fled in disarray, and the night moves towards the new day.
The watch is over.
And the desolation lingers on in our hearts...
ReplyDeleteA few miles east (in Edinburgh,) I too watched as the candles were snuffed out. It was hard to leave.
ReplyDeletewe did the disarray bit particularly well this year.
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