This weekend at St. Alban's we held a burial office for a beloved parishioner. When considering all of the amazing work that we do in the church there's never a time when we are are either 1) more nervous or 2) more reverent. No matter how well we know the deceased by the time the liturgy for any burial takes place new relationships have been born and it's all that we can do to not break down and cry with those who mourn. You may not have noticed but there's no place in the rubrics of the prayerbook for that - nowhere does the BCP instruct in italics: At this time everyone may cry.
In preparing for the service this weekend a friend showed me a poem from Rumi:
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language and even the phrase "each other" doesn't make any sense.
With every hope of more days, may each of us meet here... before there.