Easter Week 2026
In the hauntingly beautiful song “May It Be," which concluded the film “The Lord of the Rings," there are two Elvish phrases from J. R. R. Tolkien's mythical language: “Mornie utulie, mornie alantie." That translates into “darkness has come” and “darkness has fallen." Tolkien, who knew 35 languages, wrote these in a perfect tense to indicate that the darkness was complete and unavoidable. That is not a bad theme for us to reflect upon during Easter Week.
Our tendency is to want to avoid the darkness and hardship of our journey. But that is an exercise in futility. In John's description of the triumphal entry we have an oft-overlooked moment. Some Greeks wanted to see Jesus. When Jesus was made aware of their interest, He said, “The hour has come for the Son of man to be glorified." In some way the gentiles coming to Jesus marked a transition, a completion of one phase and the beginning of another. We might expect that what would follow would be a positive motivational talk about the wonderful bright future. However, a couple of verses later, Jesus says, “Now, My soul is troubled. What should I say, ‘Father save me from this hour?’ But this is why I came to this hour. Father glorify Your name.” Faced with the next phase, with what was to come, Jesus, at the level of His soul, His psyche, was agitated, tossed to and fro, was in turmoil. The only way to avoid the monumental troubling of the soul was to reject the will of the Father. The darkness, the cross, and the suffering cannot be avoided; they must be endured.
It is in this context that Jesus gives us the call to come and endure the darkness as well. Verses 24-26 of John 12 are not the kind of words that spring from a message of ever-increasing blessings. They are an invitation to walk through “the valley of the shadow of death.” They are words that tell us the loss we experience now is real and painful and without anesthetic. It is a promise of companionship in the darkness and suffering that is beyond imagination.
So much of our life is focused on and trying to avoid suffering. As disciples, that isn’t a real possibility; it is, however, a formula for anxiety. When our focus is on the good life now, every moment of the future is a threat to that life, a threat that grows as the years progress. As disciples, that 'good life now’ kind of life is not a possibility. Certainly a holy life is better, but it is not easy. Godliness brings greater peace but not greater ease. The world, the flesh, and our pride tell us we can have a self-satisfying life now, but it remains an unfulfilled promise. God is wanting to sanctify, to make us into glorious saints, and this only happens in the crucible of hardship, of dying to self.
The writer of Hebrews tells us Jesus “for the joy set before Him endured the cross." Before the joy, the misery; before the resurrection, death; before the new kind of vitality, agony. We need to realign our thinking. Rather than trying to manage, hide from, or escape the current darkness, we need to despise the suffering it will cause us, because on the other side is the overwhelming sense that all is well, whole, and hope-filled with the love and glory of God. For that joy set before us, we embrace dying to self, which is the mark of being a disciple.
Easter week 2026 and the darkness seems to be growing without restraint. At almost every level and in every direction the news is dark. In my heart and life I feel the presence of the darkness. In the universal church, darkness seems to be advancing. In the political world the clouds grow darker. So what do we do? We remember that even for Jesus the harsh reality was a troubled soul during Easter week. But come the first day of the week, Joy will explode. Walk faithfully in the darkness, my friend, because Easter is coming.