The Saturday of Easter Vigil had unexpectedly exploded into anger and pain. Bewildered, grieving–all the feelings you have when struggling with someone you love–I found myself inside the Church’s most joyful service and, not being reconciled, unable to bring myself to receive communion.
The service continued: the long drama of worship leading up to the moment when the Resurrection was announced and the congregation would ring bells–sounding the victory while the priest walked the aisles casting baptismal water on the parish. That night I had no bell and, I remember searching frantically during the festal shout for something I could substitute–keys, a ringtone. The moment was passing, and overwhelmed by loneliness, I knew only that Easter was far away.
Then in the midst of all my despair, a single drop of water hit me and broke the spell. I was brought out of myself–not to joy, but at least to life. I was in a place where Easter was proclaimed. It was a moment of grace in deep darkness. A touch to call me back.
When our hearts are wintry, grieving or in pain
Thy touch can call us back to life again…
Now the Green Blade Riseth
Text by John Macleod Campbell Crum
Tune: Noël Nouvelet, 15th Century French melody