Live: Advent Day 6

To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go. –In Blackwater Woods by Mary Oliver

 

I stood in the pulpit at this morning’s funeral and proclaimed a truth born of love and loss: Bob died, but still he lives. And still we love. The earth changed. Our hearts broke. But we keep on loving; we keep on living; we trust God to shepherd us through even this.

I stood at Bob’s graveside; I spoke the words of Jesus into the frozen landscape, into bleak, wintry spirits made cold with grief: I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die (John 11:25).

On a day that death has tried its best to claim…a day when I not only lay to rest a beloved member of my parish, but also mark twenty-one years since my brother Mike’s death…life prevails. Love lives on. Light shines.

Before the funeral sermon, before the graveside prayers, I stepped out my door into a gift from God. The view that greeted me gave me strength and peace for this day. The sunrise appeared to me like a sliver of brilliant light peeking out from behind the lowered curtain of this world’s stage.

The dark of the auditorium, I thought—the dark of life here and now—is the dark of the womb; we grow and become, fed and nourished, held and carried, rocked gently to the steady rhythm of our mother’s heartbeat and the soothing notes of our father’s lullaby.

We live.

In the dark, we hold the hand of the one beside us. We fumble, forgive, wait and wonder. In the dark, we catch glimpses of a light beyond anything we can imagine, a love so complete that there’s no room for fear.

In the dark, we live.

And when we die, I imagine the curtain lifts and we can see that brightly lit stage that beckons to us to make our entrance.

Maybe we enter from stage left. Maybe from stage right.

Maybe we enter cautiously, maybe confidently.

Maybe we enter old and gray. Maybe we enter far too young.

Maybe we enter knowing the love that has carried us all the while, and maybe we see that love for the first time as we step onto the stage.

We enter into that brilliant light with Jesus, the light of the world, at our side.

We live.

In the light, we live.

 

Come, Lord Jesus, come. Steady us in the dark until that day when we live fully in your light. Amen.

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