From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. Matthew 27v45
On February 14th, 1884, Theodore Roosevelt lost his beloved mother and, a few hours later, lost the love of his life, Alice, after giving birth to their only child. Upon her death, he wrote in his diary: The light has gone out of my life.
Grief brings darkness.
Sometimes, darkness enters our hearts because of guilt. Something I did caused me to feel a bleakness that can only be cured by absolution. I need forgiveness.
But also, my heart is far darker than I want to admit. Or, as the late poet Mary Oliver has said, the heart has many dungeons. Bring the light! Bring the light! She is right. My heart is complicated. I can have a room called melancholy, regrets, or depression.
Sometimes, my internal darkness is caused by things I have done, sometimes by the circumstances I find myself in, and sometimes by physiological factors beyond my control.
Would it surprise you to know that Jesus experienced darkness in his life?
As I meditated on this idea of noonday darkness at the crucifixion, I was reminded of a relatively recent discovery in physics. It is called a singularity or a black hole.
A black hole is a region in space where gravity is so strong that light and other electromagnetic waves cannot escape. This happens when matter is squeezed into a tiny space, which can happen when a star dies. The boundary of no escape is called the event horizon.
Jesus draws our sin, brokenness, and darkness deep inside his own holy and pristine soul. This moment is so profound and powerful that it becomes a singularity for daytime light.
Jesus is laying down his life in death to bring us into a new life with God.
This was not just a unique moment in history—like the day Abraham Lincoln was killed. This moment of disappearing light, sin, and evil was for you.
The good news of the story is that at this cross, the vortex of darkness swirling around the infinite soul of Jesus means your bad decisions from years ago, last week, or last night, have already been absorbed into the sinless man hanging here on this cross.
Jesus is for you. This cross is for you. The good news of this story is that you are never too far gone for the grace of God because of what Jesus did on that day in this darkness. No matter what you have done with your life, because of Jesus’ death on this cross, you are not too far gone from God.
My brother’s church in Sumner, Washington, attracted the misfits of the community. That included me and my family. One of my favorite church members from 20 years ago was a fella named Roger. Roger was an addict. He was not addicted to any one thing but to almost anything.
We would have testimony services on Sunday evenings, and Roger would often say, “I praise God that I am 6 years, 7 months, and 8 days sober from alcohol. I’m 45 days sober from cigarettes, and I am 4 years, 3 months, and 2 days sober from gambling!” We would all applaud and encourage him.
Then, the next time we had testimonies, he’d say, “I praise God that I am 6 years, 7 months, and 15 days sober from alcohol. I’m 55 days sober from cigarettes. I am one day sober from gambling!”
We would all applaud and encourage him. This routine happened many times.
Christ Church of Sumner was a place for people who knew they were a mess, a hot mess. They knew Jesus was for them, and so were we.
We might do a little better job of hiding our issues than the church in Sumner, but the truth of the matter is we are just as messed up as Roger.
That’s why we need someone to bring the light. And Jesus did just that. He took the singularity of our lives’ darkness and let it ravish his pristine soul because he was for us.
This darkness happened in Jesus on Friday.
But Sunday’s coming, and with it comes the Light!

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