Easter tidings, fellow pilgrims. As I sit here today gathering my thoughts for this newsletter, for this weekend, and for this tender time in the world, I lament the heartbreak that death brings even in our assurance of salvation and everlasting life through Christ. We have lost a few beloved people very recently, in this community, in the Diocese, and in the world, and we mourn the loss of their companionship. It can be really difficult to reconcile love and loss in our hearts because love is so wonderful, and loss is so painful. An old poem by Judah Halevi (12th century, Rome) comes to mind regarding this dichotomy of emotion:
‘Tis a fearful thing
To love
What death can touch.
To love, to hope, to dream,
And oh, to lose.
A thing for fools, this,
Love,
But a holy thing,
To love what death can touch.
For your life has lived in me;
Your laugh once lifted me;
Your word was a gift to me.
To remember this brings painful joy.
‘Tis a human thing, love,
A holy thing,
To love
What death can touch.
When death takes away someone we love, no amount of explanation or faith can prevent the heartache—the heartbreak—of that loss. But our faith can surely comfort and assure us that death is not the end. How relevant this assurance is as we celebrate WHY death is not the end. Jesus, and His gift of everlasting life through His death and resurrection—His gift of Hope. As a community, we can carry the love, the loss, and the hope together. And, while it is a fearful thing to love what death can touch, we can also help one another to remember the beauty of life, the gift of love, and the joy of laughter. May the souls of all whom we’ve loved and lost rest in eternal peace and rise in glory when that day comes. +
I embrace you in tender loving prayer. You are beautiful, and you are beloved.
Angela+