Why the Sanctuary Grows Darker in Lent

Dear faith family,

Earlier this week, someone asked me a thoughtful question:

“Why do you have black curtains partially covering the beautiful stained glass windows in the sanctuary?”

If I’m honest, this is a new tradition for me as well. But over these weeks of Lent, I’ve come to experience it in a meaningful way.
With each passing Sunday, the sanctuary grows a little darker. The light that usually pours through those windows is slowly dimmed. And in that gradual change, something important is being revealed.

Lent is a season that does not turn away from darkness. Our faith does not deny that there is brokenness in the world, or in our own lives. It does not rush past grief, suffering, or injustice. Instead, like Christ, we are invited to face it—to walk through it with honesty, courage, and trust.

These black curtains are a visible expression of that journey.

They reflect the growing weight of the story we are telling together. Week by week, we move closer to Jerusalem. We join the crowd as Jesus enters the city. We gather at the table in the upper room. We follow into the garden as prayers are offered in the night. And soon, we will stand at the foot of the cross.

The dimming light helps us feel the weight of that story. It reminds us that this is not just something we remember—it is something we enter.

And yet, this is not a story of despair.

Because even as the sanctuary darkens, we continue to sing. We continue to pray. We continue to gather. Not because the darkness isn’t real, but because we trust that it will not have the final word.

We know the rest of the story.

The black curtains are not only a symbol of the darkness in scripture, in our lives, and in our world—they are also a sign that we are moving through that darkness together, holding onto the promise that the light of Christ will not be overcome.

And if you find yourself feeling overwhelmed by the darkness—whether in the world around you or in your own life—please know this: you do not have to walk through it alone. The church is here for you. I am here for you.

My door is always open.
Grace and peace,
Pastor Kevin