All, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit (2 Corinthians 3.18)
They come, saddened, one-by-one, then, as time draws nigh,
in mournful streams. Faithful folk – gathering to remember,
to honor
the soul of a loved one,
yet alive in their hearts of reminiscence,
yea, e’en more, enfleshed still in their corporate presence –
enter
the portals of the church.
There, they sing, the roof raised
by their hymns of God’s praise
and listen to lessons of sacred script
and ancient word:
I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord;
he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live;
and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die…
all the while, hoping, praying in faith of the truth of it;
so, that in their praying and hoping, they may strive
to live,
to thrive,
for as long as they live,
trusting in the promise of life everlasting.
Endnote: I am the resurrection and life…, from the Opening Acclamation of The Burial of the Dead: Rite I, The Book of Common Prayer, page 469
occasional observations of mind and heart, soul and spirit 
Paul,
I still remember much of Tim’s funeral and how wonderfully alive that church was. On my darkest days I can go back to that feeling and it is what helps me to thrive! So many funerals since then and unfortunately more to come… but these words are hopeful in the sense that we can find joy in the hope of life everlasting.
Much love!
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Of course, you remember Tim’s funeral. I, too. ‘Twas a pageant of commemoration and celebration, individual and communal grief and joy, and, for me, a reminder of that ancient African proverb: As long as one living soul remembers you, you never can die. Still, beyond the power of human, earthly remembrance, there is this Christian promise of eternal life, which I, more and more, hold dear to the breast of my believing. May it be so.
Love
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