I seem to remember, from either the days of records, or of tape cassettes, that sometimes, when listening to very quiet music, you would get an accidental muffled preview of a loud passage to come. Either the neighbouring groove had pushed on the wall of the one you were trying to play, or the next bit of tape had magnetised the part it was jammed up against. Not sure how it worked, but I do seem to remember these events. The whispered promise of resurrection seems to infuse even today’s day of emptiness.
Jesus, God of love,
refugee
from the land of the living,
have mercy on us
in our days, months, years
of emptiness.
Take us by the hand,
take all people, and
lead us all to a
new beginning, a new hope.
We pray today for
all people in grief,
who are missing someone they loved,
and still do,
whose love now has nowhere to go.
Give them comfort and strength,
in their shock and anger,
their confusion and loss.
Even today, when funerals are not what they should be,
may every uniquely wonderful person
be given the honour they deserve.