This last Easter Sunday morning at St. Paul's is bitter-sweet, as have been the services of Holy Week. This day begins as a little death for me, an almost farewell (April 14th is my last Sunday.) Yet what a privilege to affirm the power of Christ's resurrection with this congregation, and to declare the hope in this life and the life to come which the empty tomb represents.
Christ Came Juggling: An Easter Sunday Poem
flipping and bouncing death's stone pages,
tossing those narrow letters high
against the roots of dawn spread in cloud.
This Jesus, clown, came dancing
in the dust of Judea, each slapping step
a new blossom spiked with joy.
Hey! Listen -- that chuckle in the dark,
that clean blast of laughter behind --
Christ comes juggling our tombs,
tossing them high and higher yet,
until they hit the sun and break open
and we fall out, dancing and juggling
our griefs like sizzling balls of light.
-- Eugene Warren, from The Risk of Birth
Christ is Risen. Christ is Risen Indeed!