hallows and saints
Halloween as we know it is a rather recent American invention. This is well-documented, but some of the facts are still surprising. Number of candy-poisonings from 1958 to 1998? Um, zero. (One kid had cyanide Pixie sticks, but that was his dad's doing, trying to collect insurance. The rest are pure urban legend.) Year that the phrase "trick or treat" first appears in print? 1939? Can that be right? Yep. Witchcraft and other assorted claptrap? Not till the mid-twentieth century.
Meanwhile, there's All Saints' Day. It's entirely appropriate that on All Hallow's Eve eve I attended a celebration of one of those great old saints that populate your life. Martha Lyons died last week, and her funeral today was a time of grieving, mourning, gladness, gratefulness, and reunion.
I say reunion because it involved the Trinity diaspora. The dizzyingly huge church family I grew up in hasn't shrunk at all. It's just exploded into several dozen other church families, without losing any of its quiddity. Recently, we've had a couple of funerals that have brought us back into the same room together, and it's been gratifying to see that we who have gone the way of Paul and Barnabas, with anger and tears, have now continued going the way of Paul and Barnabas, embracing new opportunities and heading different directions, all the while cherishing deep family ties.
As for that remarkable moment that's just over the last hill, should we be angry that it's over, or glad that we had it to begin with?
Meanwhile, there's All Saints' Day. It's entirely appropriate that on All Hallow's Eve eve I attended a celebration of one of those great old saints that populate your life. Martha Lyons died last week, and her funeral today was a time of grieving, mourning, gladness, gratefulness, and reunion.
I say reunion because it involved the Trinity diaspora. The dizzyingly huge church family I grew up in hasn't shrunk at all. It's just exploded into several dozen other church families, without losing any of its quiddity. Recently, we've had a couple of funerals that have brought us back into the same room together, and it's been gratifying to see that we who have gone the way of Paul and Barnabas, with anger and tears, have now continued going the way of Paul and Barnabas, embracing new opportunities and heading different directions, all the while cherishing deep family ties.
As for that remarkable moment that's just over the last hill, should we be angry that it's over, or glad that we had it to begin with?
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