Previously underappreciated ancient liturgies are making a comeback. One such liturgy? Tenebrae.

In the Diocese of Columbus, home to 280,000 Catholics, some 14 parishes (including St. Joseph Cathedral) will celebrate some version of Tenebrae this year. I can remember a time not so long ago when it was impossible to find a church that was willing to do it — and for good reason. It is not an easy liturgy to add to a week already packed with special liturgies, each with its own rubric and unique music.  (READ MORE: Holy Land Christians Celebrate Easter Amid War)

Tenebrae (meaning “darkness” in Latin) is a combination of Matins and Lauds — the sections of the Divine Office prayed by the clergy on behalf of the faithful during the earliest hours of the morning. During the Triduum, the three days leading up to Easter, the Catholic Church has traditionally urged the clergy to anticipate the offices the previous night (Holy Thursday’s Tenebrae is said Wednesday night; Good Friday’s is said Thursday night, etc.), ostensibly to let the clergy get a bit more sleep in between liturgies.

That, of course, doesn’t make Tenebrae easy. Each liturgy is composed of 14 psalms, nine of the most difficult chant responsories ever sung, and nine lessons (readings from Scripture, the Church Fathers, and the epistles), all of which combined take about two hours to sing — and that’s assuming the choir doesn’t decide to replace some of those responsories with polyphony.

According to tradition, the liturgy is sung in a dimly lit church facing a massive candelabra (called a “hearse”) with 15 lit candles — one for each of the psalms, and one representing Christ. Over the course of the two hours, each candle is extinguished. (READ MORE: Go Touch Some Grass)

Those who attend Tenebrae mark this as the most beautiful part about the liturgy. There’s something about watching as, slowly, each flame goes out, one by one. The congregation experiences a sense of both anticipation and abandonment. With the last candle representing Christ, we watch and participate in the symbol of our renunciation of him and are stuck by the loneliness of God in the Passion. The psalmist sings, “Thou has put away my acquaintance far from me: they have set me an abomination to themselves.” Christ’s apostles have abandoned and denied Him. On the cross, He cries out, “My God, My God, why has thou abandoned me?” (READ MORE from Aubrey Gulick: In the Spirit of Penance: Lenten Music to Lift Your Spirit)

God suffers for us, alone. In Tenebrae, after the last psalm is sung, the last candle is removed and taken behind the altar to represent Christ’s burial. The celebrant slams his book shut, and the faithful bang on the pews to represent the earthquake that took place after Christ’s death. The noise subsides when the candle returns. It is then snuffed out, and the liturgy abruptly ends.

There is a reason why Catholics have begun to return to Tenebrae. In a modern world where we’re constantly besieged by depressing news, where rates of suicide are reaching record highs, and where loneliness has reached epidemic levels, our faith offers us hope — but first, it reminds us that God also walked in this valley of death.