Cemetery in spring

"He'll raise you up
On eagle's wings
Bear you on the
Breath of dawn
Make you shine
Like the sun
And hold you in
The palm of His hand"

Given in memory of a young man who passed away in his early 20's, by his family. (click to enlarge)











Lexington Cemetery

Third Sunday of Lent: crossing over

Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah,
Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah.
My brothers and sisters are all aboard, hallelujah,
My brothers and sisters are all aboard, hallelujah.

Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah,
Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah.
The river is deep and the river is wide, hallelujah,
Milk and honey on the other side, hallelujah.

Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah,
Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah.
Jordan's river is chilly and cold, hallelujah,
Chills the body but not the soul, hallelujah.

Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah,
Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah.
--Traditional

One of my aunts passed away this past Monday. On the internet, you can find she buried an infant daughter in Mahaddei, Somalia, in January of 1958. And that she lost a sister in 1987. And that a Somali "Muslim Mennonite Sufi" living and teaching in Montreal dedicated a poem to her.

She spent most of her life within a one-mile radius of the house where she was born and raised. Her family settled next door to my grandparents when they returned from Africa. The church was half a mile or so away. She made a home for her husband and six children. She looked in on, and cared for my grandmother, until she passed away. She served the church for many years as member and minister's wife. She had a ready smile, a steady faith, a strong will, a great deal of energy, and a huge garden. She fed many people. Like my grandmother, she was interested in people, especially relatives. She noticed and took pleasure in the simple, daily joys of life, the sign of a grateful heart. In her later years, she spent a great deal of time taking care of grandchildren.

I cannot sum up a person in a blog post. I wish I had been able to see her more often.

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints. Psalm 116:15.

In Time of Sorrow

May you see God’s light on the path ahead
When the road you walk is dark.
May you always hear,
Even in your hour of sorrow,
The gentle singing of the lark.
When times are hard may hardness
Not turn your heart to stone,
And may you always remember
You do not walk alone.

This is an old Celtic blessing, shared by Being Barbara on her blog. She is requesting prayer for her pastors and their families.

Saints

"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints." Psalm 116:15

Yesterday on NPR's Fresh Air, Terry Gross interviewed singer/actor Vernel Bagneris who has just sold his apartment, and has been planning to move home to New Orleans. Half his belongings are already there. He had a difficult time speaking, toward the end. His sister is enroute to be with him in New York. His brother-in-law and nephew stayed home to ride out the hurricane, and have not been heard from.

Bagneris wrote the text for Rejoice When You Die, a book of photographs of New Orleans funeral processions.*

Terry asked him for a good example of New Orleans' music to close the program with. He, with tears in his voice, recommended "When the Saints Go Marching In," because "a lot of saints went marching home this week."

WHEN THE SAINTS GO MARCHING IN

Oh when the saints go marching in,
Oh when the saints go marching in,
Oh Lord I want to be in that number,
Oh when the saints go marching in.

Oh when the sun refuses to shine,
Oh when the sun refuses to shine,
Oh Lord I want to be in that number,
When the sun refuses to shine.

Oh when the dead, in Christ shall rise,
Oh when the dead, in Christ shall rise,
Oh Lord I want to be in that number
When the dead, in Christ shall rise.

I have to say, amid the all the coverage of Hurricane Katrina this week, I had not thought of the deaths in this way: saints marching in.** When food and help finally arrived at the Superdome, I read reports of cries of "Thank you, Jesus," and praising God. Many of these survivors are fellow Christians.

*New Orleans created its own spin on the old tradition of military brass band funerals; traditional New Orleans funerals with music feature sad music (mostly dirges and hymns) on the way to the cemetery and happy music (hot jazz) on the way back. -- from Wikipedia

**I had forgotten the New Orleans' football team are the Saints.