“I have to believe that you still exist somewhere,
that you still watch me sometimes,
that you still love me somehow.

I have to believe that I need to stay here for some time,
that all this teaches me something,
so that I can meet you again somewhere.”
~Ann Thorp

Eternal Light: A requiem. Howard Goodall

On this Wednesday of Holy Week, I find myself doing something I have never done before during these days. I am preparing for a funeral which will be held on Saturday. The service is for one of the true saints of our community who lived more than ninety years on this Earth. At first, I have to admit that I was a bit unnerved at the timing of this service. And then my heart opened to the great joy and celebration of this family who will have the gift of knowing their loved one’s memory will be forever connected with the celebration of Easter.

In many traditions on the Saturday before Easter Sunday, communities hold an Easter vigil. During this time the large sweep of human history, from the perspective of the Christian household, is told. Beginning with the stories of creation, the scriptures are read and often acted out. Creation….The Exodus…..the warnings of the prophets….Jesus birth, life, death. The vigil often ends there with the hope that people arrive on Sunday morning to get the full impact of the celebration of resurrection. It is a way of connecting our individual and community life spans with the much larger drama in which we are always a part.

As I have been preparing for this funeral, I realized that this is also one of the practices in which we hope to engage as we celebrate the life of one who has passed from this life. We look back through the history of their life, whether made up of many years or few, and connect it to the larger story of humanity. As people of faith, we also seek to make the already visible connections to the telling of our tradition.

On Sunday evening our Sanctuary Choir ushered our community into Holy Week with a concert of music associated with the passion of Christ. One piece was Bach, a familiar sound to those who have encountered sacred music. The other was a new piece by Howard Goodall entitled “Eternal Light: A Requiem” which used poetry of our time set to haunting music. The poem above captured my imagination and my heart. “I have to believe you exist somewhere, that you watch me, love me. I have to believe that it all has meaning, that I am useful and my life has makes a difference. I have to believe that at some time, in some place I will see you again.”

These words, for me, so encompass our deepest hope not only for those who have passed on into eternity but also for our own daily living. They are words I imagine the disciples saying as they tried to come to terms with Jesus’ death. They are words I imagine the family and friends of our beloved one whose life we will celebrate Saturday might say.

When all is said and done, I believe, we all want to affirm those connections that unite us with the Eternal Light. In our living, in our dying, in our resurrections.