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April 11, 2009

Last night I participated in Disgrace, an artistic presentation of the stations of the cross, in honor of Good Friday.

Last night, God wrecked me.  Todd, Libbie and I performed a haunting dirge for the station “Laid is Sepulcher,” the final stage before the resurrection.  We sought to capture the utter despair followers of Christ experienced when preparing His body for burial, laying Him in the tomb, and plunging into hopelessness as they watched their Lord disappear into the abyss of the cave.  They didn’t understand, so we didn’t either.  They weren’t hoping, so we didn’t hope.  It was unbearable.

Last night I played a death march for my Lord.  As people filed out of the room, heading to the Fallout to celebrate the resurrection, I stayed in the darkened room, watching the light slowly slip away, completely wrecked by the hopelessness and despair we sought to convey.

I left the room, and walked to the Fallout in a daze.  I went directly into the poustinia (celtic prayer closet inside the Fallout prayer room), and wept.  I wrote this in my journal:  “I just played a death march for Jesus as an effigy of my Lord was carried out of the room.  I couldn’t handle it.  I came into the poustinia and cried, while God spoke to me.  He spoke to my heart, putting words to my deepest desire – to follow and love Christ perfectly, and to be loved perfectly by Christ.”

Last night God wrecked me.

One Comment leave one →
  1. Beth permalink
    April 14, 2009 9:37 pm

    I am touched by your heart, Clayton. God moves in me, through you and your descriptive words of your experiences. I am blessed and I love you. ~Mom

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