living and dying at Easter

halleluia! halleluia!
Handel’s words and music shook the concrete block walls of the church.
voices stronger than ours held us in rapture.

He is risen. He is risen indeed!
The ancient creed echoed through the church
from the lips of children, the broken, and the proud.

we broke bread, shared a cup of wine.
we celebrated a Love that triumphs over death …
and that vibrant life can be celebrated
(without chocolate or bunnies)
in a community that gently holds infants and 75-year lovers.

‘he goes ahead of you’, and we are invited to join the story.

Holding Hands

an hour later.
tears trickled onto the bedsheets in the hospital.
cancer is taking her words and dignity from her.

death is not feared – it’s dying that is the enemy that wrenches at the heart.
in this place, its easier to understand death.

to be slow to speak of new life (cliche)
but to whisper the rumours into the right moment is an art (not always mine).

we read the story (again) and the invitation into the story,
an empty grave,
(he goes ahead of you. wherever).
we pray.
eyes closed, holding hands …
not easy words.silence.holding hands.eyes closed.tears

so we break chocolate, and talk about the bunny
and a community that holds infants and lovers who will never see their 3rd anniversary.

the faith of many gently holds faith for one (especially this one),
a gift
that mingles
with tears on a hospital bedsheet.

‘he goes ahead of you’

(Easter day, 2016)