Tenebræ factæ sunt. In the hour of Our Lord’s agony, the whole of nature, the cosmos itself, is clothed in the black clouds of mourning. Darkness. And along with the darkness, cold, biting air, and a silence pregnant with horror and emotion for the impending death of Christ. The sky is leaden and threatening, the earth ready to quiver and tremble with indignation. On the high ground of Golgotha, where sharp stones and thorny bushes dominate Jerusalem, the Cross has been raised, and on the Cross is nailed the Immaculate Lamb, Priest and Victim. We dare not raise our eyes to look, and we remain at the foot of that scaffold, together with the Virgin and Saint John.