Inappropriately Appropriate

Episcopal traditions run long and deep, and the Church discourages alterations to the centuries old liturgy. (There have been a few minor changes recently, that is if you think of 1979 revisions to the Book of Common Prayer as recent, as do many Episcopalians.)  Designated colors adorn the altar according to church seasons, and specific hymns are appointed for specific days.  I was pleasantly surprised when Father Mike quickly gave blessing to my request for Tara’s service to begin with “Jesus Christ Is Risen Today,” a distinctly Easter hymn. I was crushed when he changed his mind. Father Mike called to say  it would instead be played before the service as an organ prelude .

“She said you wouldn’t let her do it,” I sobbed.

Father Mike was silent.    

“I didn’t know, Bunny," he responded softly. "I didn’t know it was that important. Please forget I called." With a gesture of compassion and mercy he added, "Just pretend this conversation never took place.”  

By coincidence, only a week before Tara died of complications following childbirth, we had discussed our favorite hymns.

“I’ve always thought ‘Jesus Christ is Risen Today’ would be perfect for a funeral,” Tara said. “But, I’ve never heard it sung except at Easter. I guess there is some kind of rule against it,” she laughed.

Neither of us knew how soon our conversation would become relevant. 

Tara's service began as has every Anglican funeral since 1549. The congregation stood. The clergy walked down the aisle solemnly reciting scripture:

     "I am the resurrection and I am Life, says the Lord. Whoever has faith in me shall have life even though he die. And everyone who has life, and has committed himself to me in faith, shall not die for ever." (John 11:25)      

Two-by-two, the robed choir entered the church, behind the gold cross lifted high before them—the same gold cross that has led similar processions down that aisle for over a hundred and fifty years.  Voices rose to sing every verse of “Jesus Christ Is Risen Today.” Soaring harmony saturated the rafters. Tears could not prevent family members from joining in. Most of us have heard that hymn sung since birth. We didn't need hymnals to remember the words.

On that crisp September morning, we gave thanks for Tara’s life, and we acknowledged her faith. We broke from centuries of tradition and honored her rule-breaking, free spirit, by singing the-hymn-sung-only-at-Easter especially for her. I don’t know if anyone was confused or deemed it inappropriate.  It does not matter.  For Tara, and for me, that hymn was perfect--a much needed herald of hope, and a reminder that death is not the end.

In spite of the crushing sadness of the occasion, we celebrated the promise of life ever-lasting with the joyful refrain, “Alleluia!”   

It was indeed a “triumphant and holy day.”*

Reflections:

Isaiah 43:2 When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. 

“Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia! Our triumphant holy day, Alleluia! Who did once upon the cross, Alleluia! Suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia!”~14^th century Latin hymn

--How do I respond to the words of this hymn?

--Are there passages of scripture or pieces of music that have special meaning to me? If so, what are they? Why are they meaningful?

--What role does tradition play in my spiritual life? Is tradition helpful in creating my open presence for God? Why? Why not?

--How do I define Hope? 

--Have I had an experience of receiving mercy?  Of giving mercy?  What happened?

*Note to those who have read previous blogs "A Lady at All Times" and "Thou Shalt Not Kill": I am pleased to report that no violence was done at Tara’s funeral. Everyone who attended lived to tell the tale, and my brother-in-law Cecil was able to remain seated for the duration of the service.