Quite an Easter Day in Augland! Church full to breaking point... I think we (just) managed to seat everyone, two baptisms, music group supplemented by new members (our teenagers are growing up and, hey, they're musical), almost 200 Easter eggs given away, and a tremendous joy about the place.
Sitting in the midst of this, unable to take it all in, unable to cope with it all, sits a bent, yet compelling, figure. He is old now and confused, his complexion as grey as his hair. Memories of happy Easter Days roll around his mind, when his beloved wife was alive, when he had energy, when he could think clearly. The days before dementia and the Care Home. He is confused at Communion time. He will not, or cannot get up to the communion rail to receive the Risen Christ in the Sacrament, for he is unsure of what is going on. Then his son, for it is my father we're talking of here, brings the Bread to his seat. "The Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven", I say, and place it into tired hands. He grips my hand like a vice, wordlessly making contact, trying to articulate this unbreakable bond, between father and son, between Jesus and himself. And in this man, who is in the Good Friday of his life, I hear Jesus Himself, crying out for resurrection.