Easter Morning - a poem - The Very Conduit

I've been seeing quite a number of folks speaking up about how it seems that the more actually loving we make God, the more heretical we sound.

It's really true. 

As most of you know, my song The Heart of God did not arrive easily.

I wrote and wrote about the darkness and struggled to write about hope and resurrection for years. Partly because I was working out God's presence in this suffering world.

Sometimes I think the very reason there is so much suffering is because we're all afraid of a Deity who would order eternal suffering.

Our whole life is made up of building walls because we can't trust that intimacy could ever be safe. I just knew there was a pearl hidden inside Christianity, waiting to be mined and held to the light. It's why I could never just leave,

Easter Sunday has transformed into a very safe, beautiful place to reside. With almost none of the triumphant fireworks that once blazed across my guilt-ridden/washed-but-still-fear-ridden soul.

It is a day of infinite intimacy. An intertwined consummation. A feast that tastes flavours with aliveness and vigour.

As I write this, I have just found out about the Easter morning bombings of the churches in  Sri Lanka...   I am so sad from all the violence. Sitting in the great Silence, before I pray for the right words to share. May all the wise leaders of this world tap root into the Ancient Peace that showed itself in Jesus, as they begin to respond. 
"Wisdom!", cries the Dawn Deacon, but we do not attend. (Merton)