The choir finished its joyous anthem, and the ushers brought up the plates. The organ began the sonorous tones of the doxology, and the old man moved to the center of the sanctuary to begin his liturgical dance. Slowly, stylistically, he moved to the music, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow." The priest stood quietly at the altar, waiting, and at the end of the dance, smiled at the dancer and mouthed, "Thank you".
"Allelulia, the Lord is Risen;" says the ancient Easter greeting. "Allelulia, the Lord is Risen indeed;" is the response. Susan began her sermon by saying, "No one is surprised that it was the women who found the empty tomb. Women have always been doing the practical things of life, and Jesus' body needed to be prepared for burial." She ended by saying, "The angel told them to meet Jesus in Galilee; the road to Galilee begins outside that door," pointing to the narthex.
This entire Holy Week has been a journey for me. The Passion Gospel was read in its entirety on last Sunday, but to hear it in sequential pieces during the week was to mark the journey. The foot-washing on Maundy Thursday was a powerful and moving enactment of the Gospel. As I helped to strip the altar of its beauty, and as Eric removed the cross, the starkness of the day to come began to creep into my heart.
Saturday morning, Susan led the short Holy Saturday service for the 5 of us who were there to begin to decorate the altar. In place of a homily, she asked us to reflect on how we prepare ourselves for Easter. She shared that she cannot write her Easter sermon until Holy Saturday afternoon, because she must experience the entire week before. As we talked, she mentioned that it was fitting that we were women sitting there, ready to do the "practical" for the church. She talked about the women at the cross and at the tomb. It was the beginning of her meditating for her sermon.
How blessed we are to have Susan. She affirms our worth in the eyes of God. She balances Eric with her quiet sweetness, and her metaphoric thinking. Eric is the teddy bear, the strong, boisterous one. When they serve together at the altar, both sides of God are represented. At least the sides we humans, in our limited vision, can see or imagine. Ross, the retired priest who is part of our congregation and ministry, proposes that human imagination and language can only begin to describe God. I believe that!
Last night, at the Great Vigil, Susan's clear voice rang out with the Exsultet, in the dark church lit only by the Pascal candle and our tiny candles. Then we heard the stories of the promises God made to us thousands of years ago, and how we humans, over and over, strayed from Him. And we came to the New Covenant and the blessed Sacrifice made for us. The stories are familiar and moving. I had the privilege of reading the Genesis story, "In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth..." It's a wonderful reading, and in that tiny church, it felt like I was reading a bedtime story to my family.
Then, finally, today. It was made even more special for me because Lyra called me this morning from her friends' house across the lake and asked us to pick her up for church. I so seldom have my children with me at church. It is a joy to have her next to me, and at the rail with me.
Throughout these last three days, I have had a young friend, Kathy, on my mind. She is dying in the hospital. I went to see her, taking my prayer book with me, mostly so that I would be let in to see her. I wasn't sure she would be allowed visitors. The sign on her door said, "No Visitors, Please", but I asked a nurse if I could just slip in and say a few prayers. She went in ahead of me and asked Kathy if she was up to having me visit. Kathy thought she could manage a couple minutes. I stayed long enough to say a couple prayers, and lay hands on her.
I've known this young woman for 15 years. Her spirit is still strong, her smile just as sweet, and her sense of humor still active. Even in her disease-ravaged body, swollen with drugs, she is the same beauty she was when I met her. She will be leaving behind two children. She has been a single mom these last five years or so. I pray for the "peace which passeth all understanding" to come upon her.
My yard is full of daffodils of several varieties: some all yellow, some all white, some with orange trumpets and yellow petals, some with cream petals and peach trumpets, some double, some tiny, and some humungous. All of them nod their heads in the breeze, and a lovely fragrance permeates the yard. Rain, sleet, snow, may temporarily beat them down, but they bounce back with joy, nodding their heads and making me smile when I walk by. Kathy is like that; I never am in her presence that I don't smile.
Dear Lord, protect her from pain and despair. Help her to go "smiling into that good night." I know she will brighten the air around you when she gets to heaven. Amen
A note to Lyra, later.
A coda to the dancer: Do you remember the two men who came in just as Susan's sermon was ending? One was tall and thin and stooped over; the other shuffled as he walked. At the coffee hour, I noticed them and I stopped to introduce myself. The tall, stooped one was Doug, and the other was his brother John. John lives in a group home. Doug told me they were old friends of the dancer, and that they came to see his dance. Doug, after talking with Eric, is going to make a concerted effort to keep an eye on the old man. Doug's wife took care of the dancer's wife the last two years of her life. She did all the cooking and cleaning for them. Now the wife herself can no longer do this, so Doug will plan to go over to "help" his old friend clean, and will drive him around.
John told me very proudly that they are going to Tahoe. "Oh," I said,"That's a beautiful lake!" John said, "Do you think it's worth the trip?" "Oh yes," I told him. "I'm going to gamble!" he told me proudly. Doug said he was going to give John a roll of $10 worth of nickels. "I'm going to have $10 in nickles," John bragged, "so I can make the gambling last a lot longer." "Have a wonderful time," I said, " and I hope you win some money!" "Oh, I hope I win," he agreed, "I will have $10 worth of nickels so it will last a long time!"
They said goodbye to me, and waved to Eric, and slowly and carefully they left. A couple of God's angels.
5:27 PM
We went to Pretty Bay this afternoon, intending to rest, read, and have a picnic supper. The sun came out for a while when we drove into the campground, and it looked like we would achieve our goal. When we got out of the truck, DB walked up to the Dollhouse, and said, "I don't believe it; I forgot the key!" So we walked a bit, then sat in the sun at the picnic table and read a little, until the sun went in and we got chilled. We drove home, carrying the picnic with us, and now DB is napping. We'll eat the picnic here at home. It WAS a nice break, however.
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