AI transcript 250417 Tilby

This evening marks the beginning of the great three days of the Christian calendar, which lead from the Last Supper that Jesus had with his disciples to the empty tomb on Easter Sunday.

It’s interesting—in the Bible, each new day begins with the evening before.
Light is extinguished before it comes again.

In the first chapter of Genesis, where the creation of the world is described in seven days, we read: "There was evening and there was morning—the first day."
And the second.

I’ve found that strangely reassuring.

It’s tempting, in these days of so much conflict and dysfunction, to lose hope—especially when we recognise the concealments that go into our politics, and the rumours and speculation spread by social media.

At a time when, as a nation, we are unsure who our friends and allies really are, it’s easy to conclude that our world is dark—and getting darker.

We still yearn for truth, and believe that evidence, and conscience, and—for many of us—faith can guide us to live with integrity.

But to do that, we have to recognise the darkness.
Evening comes before morning.

Honesty calls us to acknowledge darkness while seeking to live in the light.

There’s a traditional service sung this week known as Tenebrae.
It uses a candle stand bearing fifteen candles, and psalms of desolation are sung, pointing to Christ’s suffering on the cross.

Fourteen candles are extinguished. Just one light remains—either hidden or covered over.

In the same spirit, I shall go to our service tonight, which ends in darkness—with candles and altar hangings stripped away, leaving the church bare and silent.

The separation of light from darkness in the Bible is the basis not only of its cosmology but its morality.

God separates light from darkness.
Only the light is called good.

It’s always in the interest of the violent and dishonest to conceal their intentions.
But the darkness of the human heart is not dark to God.
To Him, the light is as clear as the day.

We have a truth-finding, truth-telling instinct—which we lose at our peril, and which is always under threat.

“Truth will out,” we say.
And we all know how the drive for truth sometimes fights with our material interests—our comfort and security.

Very often, it seems there is very little light around.
And what there is, is difficult to see.

Yet—there is nothing hidden that shall not be made known, says Jesus.

As night falls, darkness has its triumph.
But the light still comes in the morning.