up from the grave

it should be no surprise to a capitalistic nation such as ours that corporate america has taken over every square inch of human life; even the grave has become an industry. death has become a lucrative opportunity for business. grief has been outsourced from a pastor to a sales rep. little thought is given to the reality of life after death. but sooner or later, when we meet her face to face, one way or another we are confronted by this problem.

photos are circulating of beloved Archbishop Dmitri+ after his repose, during those
intimate moments of spiritual and practical preparation of washing and dressing and prayer. its probably strange to most; only beautiful to the one who has loved both body and soul. what a depth of spiritual vision there is for the one who is able to experience this. at that moment, the theology that "it's only a body" just doesn't hold water.

i cared for my father at the time of his falling asleep. those hands that held me as a baby, i clasped in mine, though cold now, soft as ever. His lips that spoke words of widsom into my life i now blessed and kissed; body and soul, i loved him. Metropolitan Hierotheos says, "Through Christ's resurrection[Christ, who assumed a mortal body like ours], the whole man, even the body, aquires the possibility of resurrection." Therefore, we care for the whole man, God's finest creation, unto the grave.

The 21st would have been Dad's 65th birthday. i drove to Restland to visit both Dmitri+ and my father's graveside. on this glorious autumn day, the cemetery was empty. Emmanuel and Eden sat under a towering Oak, quietly cleaning off some of the ledgers covered with mud, exposing their bronze anew. They drew hearts in the dirt "for granddad," as a fitting marker for someone who's costly ledger has still not been placed.

the Church made a huge mistake when she oursourced death to big business. demonstrated by the sales reps who speak in terms of real estate and not in terms of souls, businesses don't care for the dead; they manage them. it's one thing for a corporation to enhance their marketing campaign by calling a cemetery "garden of prayer", and another thing for it to actually be one.

so here we are, small in the scope of this sprawling garden; so many to pray for.

the mystery of death is in the life it brings. for it hides eternity in our hearts.
we load back into the minivan as a small voice utters "mommy, i want to be in heaven with granddad." granddad's death has given us a rich inheritance: longing for the Kingdom.