The Sydney Opera House has been a beacon of cultural brilliance, hosting countless symphonies, operas, and concerts that have left lasting impressions on audiences worldwide. But on a fateful evening in 2003, the grandeur of this iconic venue transcended the realm of mere performance. The lights dimmed into a reverent hush, and the entire hall seemed to breathe with expectation — this was not a typical concert; it was an event charged with sacred significance and powerful worship.
Before a single note was struck, the atmosphere was electric. A single spotlight swept across the stage, unveiling musicians and singers who stepped forward not as entertainers but as messengers of eternal truth. The massive audience, thousands strong, settled into profound silence, more akin to a communal prayer than ordinary anticipation. Then, the first chords broke the stillness — soft, solemn, delicate — drawing everyone into a shared moment of spiritual reflection.
The song performed was none other than “It Is Finished,” a phrase that echoed with the weight of ages. From the opening word, the choir’s voices were steady, confident, and gripping. The proclamation — “It is finished.” — filled the vaulted ceilings of the Opera House, simultaneously thunderous and gentle, like a lullaby cradling exhausted souls. Each line carried the dual burdens of weight and comfort — the final blessing from a pastor, the tender reassurance of a mother whispered only in the quietest moments.
What transpired was more than a mere musical event; it was a profound testimony. Harmonies
