The submissions for this week in order of being received were:
Brendan O’Sullivan Hale blogged, “These Bones”
No one told us what to expect when we picked up my mother’s ashes from the crematorium.
The taxi turned into the parking lot at the top of the hill, across from the Chinese cemetery. Some chickens pecked around in the grass. The funeral director led us around to a table on the far side of the building, and then they brought her out.
She was in what looked like a large lasagna pan. She was fine dust, some ribs, an arm bone. The heat of the oven had broken her skull into three pieces.
“Mortal, can these bones live?” came uninvited into my mind. No, I said to myself. No.
Steve Pankey Blogged, “Experiencing resurrection”
I’ve spent a lot of time pondering this week’s question; thinking back over the particularities of Holy Week and Easter… Even as I took the time to remember all those events, I felt like I was still missing the point. I had done plenty, but I wasn’t sure I had actually experienced resurrection. Sometimes I’m not even sure I know what that means. Life is just so busy, I wonder how much I really experience anything.
David Simmons Blogged, “Resurrection and the Trembling Giant”
In a time where so much is focussed on disunity and struggle in the church, I found resurrection in Rachel Held Evans, “Searching for Sunday.” The “Assumed Ecumenism” of this book points to the essential unity in Jesus that seems to be on the rise among the young. Her journey of embracing an Episcopal congregation gives me hope that if we concentrate on the essentials of being Anglican liturgical Christians, rather than pushing “The Episcopal Church” as an entity unique and closed off to ecumenical currents, that we have something significant to offer.
Andrew Leigh Amanda LeAnn Bullard Blogged, “Finding Resurrection in Despair”
In the midst of an Easter light overcast by the shadow of rejection, Andrew Amanda explores what resurrection can mean for those who were never supposed to survive. Drawing on their experiences as a psychiatric survivor, and transgender person of faith they demonstrate how the triumph of resurrection can start with the simple act of waking up each morning.
Linda Mizwicki Blogged, “The Peaceful Pain of Pruning Shears”
As I managed my responsibilities so I could check another item off my list, God told me to “Settle down, chick. Settle down, let it be, and smell the roses. Or rather, become a rose for others to smell. Let me help help you grow.” The knot in my chest loosened, the furrows on my brow smoothed, and the weight on my shoulders lightened. This, my friends, is what church can do. This, my friends is what it means to let Christ prune us, to allow ourselves to grow in the love of God. As my inspiration died in my heart and withered on the vine, I found resurrection in the gospel, in the liturgy, in the community of my church. I may be a rotten gardener, but with, God’s help, I pray to be a fruitful plant.
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