The Question IS

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

In her four part poem entitled, The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac, Mary Oliver deals with her diagnosis of lung cancer. Cancer is the Fourth sign of the Zodiac, and part 2 raises the question: “What will it be like after the last day? Will I float into the sky or will I fray within the earth or a river - remembering nothing?”

I wonder about questions like these, especially after this past year, and as I grow closer to the end times, however they come for me and you. Will I push up flowers in the spring, like the daffodils bursting all around me? Will I feel the warmth of love beneath a snow-covered holy mountain, joining the flowing rivers below? Will I feast on well aged wines and rich food, as I did last night with friends, or will I remember nothing, including the promises made in scripture?

Remembering. Re-membering our bodies. Will I remember your names, our good times, and the laughter we shared. Will I remember the beauty of the earth, the deep blue sea, and the vast expanse of zodiacs in the sky? Will I remember how good God is, all the time?

“The man who has many answers is often found in the theaters of information where he offers, graciously, his deep findings.” We see him in our pulpits, our newsrooms, on stage, throughout FaceBook and YouTube. We hear him in the echoes of our empty minds.

“While the man who has only questions, to comfort himself, makes music,” she wrote. So I ask questions with Mary Oliver, God rest her soul, and I listen for the music. I chase the squirrels away from my feeder, the monkeys out of my brain, and ask the birds those very same questions. Will I join you someday too? Will I float into a bright blue sky, remembering the beauty of the earth? Or will I fray within the earth or a river? Will I even remember, beloved, your beloved name?”

2. The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac

The question is,

what will it be like

after the last day?

Will I float

into the sky

or will I fray

within the earth or a river—

remembering nothing?

How desperate I would be

if I couldn’t remember

the sun rising, if I couldn’t

remember trees, rivers; if I couldn’t

even remember, beloved,

your beloved name.

The Man Who Has many Answers

The man who has many answers

is often found

in the theaters of information

where he offers, graciously,

his deep findings.

While the man who has only questions,

to comfort himself, makes music.

Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings

Easter Fire

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

“We had reached the point in the service when the Paschal candle is lit as a reminder that in spite of the darkness of Jesus’ tomb, the radiance of new life is coming. ‘The light of Christ,’ the priest said as he held the fire to the candle. The little flame caught and flickered in the darkness, disappeared, then returned, quivering on and off in a draft of wind. I thought of the line I’d written in my journal earlier in the week. ‘I feel as if a candle has blown out inside me.’ Suddenly the priest lifted his hands and cupped them around the flame. As the light of the candle grew stronger, the sight of him cradling that little spark of fire burned into me. It was an image of bare, unscripted grace, the light of Christ. I carried that tiny piece of Easter fire inside me. The Christ-life is like the Paschal candle sputtering in the darkness. We need gentle hands cupped around it, coaxing the flame to grow stronger.”

Sue Monk Kidd

“Here I’m offering two snapshots of Easter grace for your consideration. One is of my colleague Tamra Tucker, who lit the New Fire and held the paschal candle on the cathedral plaza on Holy Saturday, surrounded by a handful of worshipful people while hundreds of others, indifferent to the rite, drove by or walked past listening to podcasts, earbuds in.”

Dean Amy McCreath, Cathedral Church of St. Paul

Indifference is not a word I would use during these pandemic times, as we all navigate our way through life. Indifference, no. Flickering flames of hope, yes. Winds blow from all directions threatening to snuff out our fire. What’s a person to do?

Return to the mystery. Get lost in the wonder of creation. Sing new songs. Plant new seeds. Roll away the stones that block the light of Christ, and let Easter come in. Then let HIM easter within you. 

Hands of the great high priest are cupped around us, our flickering flames of hope and quivering bodies of fear. His hands are marked and scarred by nails, raised in divine blessed assurance. Know that there is a tiny piece of Easter fire burning within you, an eternal flame of Resurrection Life that will never die.

“Let Him easter in us, be a dayspring to the dimness of us, be a crimson-cresseted east.” 

Gerald Manley Hopkins 

On Letting Easter In

 On Letting Easter In                                        The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

When dawn stands still with wonder

when birds jubilate in the trees

when buds hurry into blossoms

and grass starts wearing green

I always know that Easter wants to come again.

But deeper yet and richer still

When Jesus, imprisoned in me,

asks me to roll away the stone

that locks me in

then Easter wants to come again.

So, let it come

It’s one dawn past rising time

and Resurrection is the wildest news

that’s ever touched

this crazy, mixed-up world.

It says, yes!

when everything else says, no!

It says, up!

when everything else says, down!

It says, live!

when everything else says, die!

Easter’s standing at your door again,

so don’t you see that stone has got to go?

that stone of fear

of selfishness and pride

of greed and blindness

and all the other stones we use

to keep Jesus in the tomb.

So here’s to rolling stones away

to give our Lord the chance He needs

to rise and touch

a troubled, lonely world.

Some call it Resurrection.

It’s wild with wonder,

It’s beautiful and real

Intent on throwing life around

it touches and it heals!

~ Macrina Wiederkehr, Seasons of Your Heart

What a wonderful and curious thought. A reversal of sorts. How Lukan! Rather than imagining the women going to the tomb early Easter morning, only to find the stone rolled away, we’re inside the tomb, with Jesus imprisoned deep inside us. Rather than wondering who moved the stone, we’re asked by Jesus to roll it away!

What a wonderful and curious thought. Easter is standing on the outside of our tomb and She wants to come in. Oh, how we have wanted Easter to come! And yet, I wonder, has She been standing there all along, just waiting for us to let Her in?

I’ve lost my taste for the daily news for many reasons. Discord, allegations, improprieties, crises, and death magnified. The message is “no”, “down”, and “die” not “yes” like Mary, and “look up” with the ascension and “live” like Jesus. Macrina Wiederkehr says that we live in a crazy and mixed up world, and that “Resurrection is the ‘wildest news’ that ever touched” us. Will we give our Lord a chance to rise and touch our troubled and lonely world? Can we even hear the good news?

I once joined a choir as part of my Lenten discipline. When  choristers complained about this or that, the choirmaster would offer a simple word: attitude. When negative comments, judgment of others, and stinking thinking enter our brains, we know it’s time for an attitude adjustment. So, I ask myself: what stones of fear, pride, selfishness, greed, and blindness do I need to roll away? Whose voice am I listening to anyway? 

Meister Eckhart reminds us that “God is here, it’s we who have walked away.” Macrina  Wiedherkehr tells us that Easter is standing at our door asking to come in. Will we open our hearts and say yes?

The Gardener

 The Day of the Resurrection, Easter         The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

John 20.15:

Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’

The Gardener

Have I lived enough?

Have I loved enough?

Have I considered Right Action enough, have I come to any conclusion?

Have I experienced happiness with sufficient gratitude?

Have I endured loneliness with grace?

I say this, or perhaps I’m just thinking it.

Actually, I probably think too much.

Then I step out into the garden,

where the gardener, who is said to be a simple man,

is tending his children, the roses.

by Mary Oliver

The Gardener

Mary Oliver likes to ask questions. She has good ones.

Like her, sometimes I think too much, especially when I’m looking for answers.

This year gave us plenty of time for questions.

So when exactly will resurrection begin?

I’m not a gardener. I tend to kill beautiful things.

Not intentionally, mind you. 

I just don’t spend the time to water.

And then I flood the poor plant with an overdose.

My favorite bush was an anniversary gift from my mother.

She was a Master Gardener, certifiable.

“You’ll find me in the garden” the plaque on her wall announced.

Place my ashes there.

My sweetheart rose bush could not be destroyed.

Even when in a fit of anger, I pruned it with a vengeance.

To my chagrin and delight, it blossomed fully and beautifully like never before.

In the Garden, I weep and ask questions like Mary.

When will resurrection begin? 

And The Gardener answers.

God’s rose bush cannot be destroyed.

It will be raised to new life, countless sweetheart roses,

blossoming fully and beautifully, like never before.