Sitting with Jesus in the Dark

There is a beautiful synchronicity when the external season matches your internal one. It just somehow feels right and resonant.

As we move into spring, there is new life all around. If you are in a season of growth, this likely feels welcome and aligned. But if you find yourself in a season of sorrow or grief, the increasing sunlight may feel jarring.

There is a detail within the story of Jesus’ crucifixion that recently took on new meaning for me.

Mark 15:33 says this:

“At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon.”

There were three hours of darkness as Jesus hung on the cross. Imagine being there as darkness suddenly and completely came out of nowhere, blocking out all light and warmth.

It’s hard to imagine exactly what Jesus felt and experienced on the cross. But the outer darkness must have felt very resonant with his inner experience.

The union of the Trinity was broken for the first time in existence. Jesus had chosen to submit to his own creation, to not resist or fight back, but to be led to the cross.

While Jesus was fully divine, we see the fullness of his humanity in the Garden of Gethsemane as he weeps and asks: God, is there any other way?

And then, after unimaginable pain and suffering, he was on the cross, alone and cast aside–and the land was swallowed in darkness.

After three hours of darkness, Jesus cried out: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Then he gave a loud cry and sighed out one final breath as he gave up his life, surrendering completely to the dark.

We know how this story ends, of course. There is resurrection just a few days away. And Jesus knew this too.

Jesus knew how it would all end. Yet he still felt grief in the darkness.

We know how it will all end for us as well. The knowledge of God making all things new and eternity with him brings hope in the midst of our suffering.

Yet we will still face darkness, times when life is hard or uncertain, and we struggle to see the light. There is grief in the darkness, even as there is also hope.

Jesus knows what it feels like to be in darkness. And he is sitting with you in your darkness too. You do not hurt and grieve alone.

How would it feel to sit with Jesus in your darkness?

As we move through Holy Week, may we sit with Jesus in his darkness on the cross as we recognize him with us in the dark days and seasons of our own life.

This is a practice that invites you to imagine Jesus’ experience on the cross as you learn what it means to sit with Jesus in your own darkness.

Read Mark 15:33-37. Close your eyes and imagine being there with Jesus as he hung on the cross. Picture the moment when the sun was hidden and everything went dark.

• What do you see?

• What do you hear?

• How does the ground feel beneath your feet, or as you sit on it?

• How do you feel?

Bring to mind any darkness you might currently be experiencing in your own life. This might be uncertainty about the future, or hard things you are walking through now.

• What rises up within you as you sit in the dark?

• How does it feel, and what thoughts come to mind?

Notice Jesus with you in the dark.

• What do you notice about Jesus as he sits with you?

• Is there anything you want to tell Jesus or say to him?

• What might Jesus want to say to you?

As you close this practice, you might feel invited to linger in the darkness. If so, don’t move out of it too quickly. Allow the darkness and grief to do its necessary work.

When you’re ready, you might imagine the light of new life and resurrection of Easter Sunday, allowing that to fill you with hope. Or maybe this is a reflection you return to on another day, resting in the companionship of Jesus in the dark.

Whatever comes to mind, remember that Jesus is with you in it. Express your heart to him, see the love in his eyes, and simply be with him in this moment now.

Tell us in the comments: How have you experienced Jesus with you in the darkness?

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