Candles don’t work real well during the day.
Matches used to light candles don’t get used too much during the day.
Lighting a candle in broad daylight is rather a waste.
It always helps to turn off a light… or two… or three… or more
Light can only do its job if it’s got a little bit of darkness to play around with-
-if it can swim steadily in a pond of no other illumination.

Holy Week, Palm Sunday (this Sunday)…
… are times of darkness.
Intentional darkness…
…when you and I deliberately face the darkness so that we can see the light.

We never have to go far to find the darkness.
It comes from every direction-
-and we avoid its stare as a matter of course.
Which is why the Church has Holy Week.
We face the darkness so that we might see the light.
We deal best with the darkness, not by avoiding it, or pretending it’s not there but by facing it squarely.

It is the darkness of our own hypocrisy.
‘Hosanna, hosanna, hosanna to the Son of David’ we cry, moments before this:
‘What do you wish me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews?" Pilate asked.
"Crucify him!" we shout back.

I am constantly amazed at my own ability to change allegiances at the drop of a hat.
I am astounded at my own sinful proclivity to say one thing and do exactly the opposite.
I am amazed at my own ability to promote and inhabit the darkness.

Yet Holy Week is not ultimately about darkness-
-it is about the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.
Holy Week ends in unimaginable light.
Holy Week ends in a hope and happiness that is better than we could ever dream.

Holy Week is about finding the light-
Rediscovering it anew, turning to it and turning everything over to it.
What can I do to get there?
Why not walk through Holy Week at your local church?
There are few better avenues to draw nigh unto God.