Coracle Trust E-Reflections

Holy Week: Give me your hand

Sunday 24 April 2011

Near here is the Land That they call Life. You'll know when you arrive By how real it is. Give me your hand. God speaks to each of us, Rainer Maria Rilke

Read John 20:1 - 31 and return 'The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared to many people.' Matthew 27:51b-53

Christ is risen!

We rise this morning, emerging from darkness into light as Jesus must have done. For 47 days we have walked through Lent, just part of a larger and continued journey - one that is epic and mundane, and is toward Life and our deepest life. And as we take the hand of the Risen Christ we hope that we journey with such radiance that those about us look up and wonder. We end with this poem by Edward Field. It is, for me, a poem about movement within the soul, one perhaps of darkness to light, marked by mystery, laced with grace and full of joy.

A Journey

When he got up that morning everything was different: He enjoyed the bright spring day But he did not realize it exactly, he just enjoyed it. And walking down the street to the railroad station Past magnolia trees with dying flowers like old socks It was a long time since he had breathed so simply. Tears filled his eyes and it felt good But he held them back Because men didn't walk around crying in that town. Waiting on the platform at the station The fear came over him of something terrible about to happen: The train was late and he recited the alphabet to keep hold. And in its time it came screeching in And as it went on making its usual stops, People coming and going, telephone poles passing, He hid his head behind a newspaper No longer able to hold back the sobs, and willed his eyes To follow the rational weavings of the seat fabric. He didn't do anything violent as he had imagined. He cried for a long time, but when he finally quieted down A place in him that had been closed like a fist was open, And at the end of the ride he stood up and got off that train: And through the streets and in all the places he lived in later on He walked, himself at last, a man among men, With such radiance that everyone looked up and wondered. Have a good day celebrating, Andrew Hook