not 56 years of life...56 years of being a priest...

entering the sacred place
greeting the many priests past
gathering present
to honor his life

one of the last ones to pay my respects where his body lays
his body half the size
taking my seat noticing
the funeral directors unceremoniously closing the coffin
last glimpse
last light
people waving walking chatting near by

two beautiful tunes
a gift to be simple
and {another, wishing bernie* were there beside me to help name that tune}

then the number of priests begin processing
pass him
two by two
bowing and kissing the altar
their deep voices joining the women's funeral choir as the processional hymn concludes

in that number imagining this same scene over and over
in the not too distant future
sitting alone
allowing myself to love
the liturgy
the bishop's cerise zuchetto the incense the vestments the music the words the space
the 'pencils'
the faith

what we do
how we celebrate
life
death
everyday

remembering the many funerals attended in this foreign church
the too young mother of a baby son and two little girls
the teen-age daughter of an artist friend
the young athletic dad of a young man only half grown
the husband father shop owner who never woke from his sleep
the buddy who loved us

remembering how these men
spoke to us and loved us
served us
have been Christ to us
holy
these men will someday leave us too

at the Eucharist
how the only light in the church fell
just over his face where his body lay beneath the pall

and as our priests recessed
they each walked through that same one small sliver of golden light
a glimpse a glimmer

of the kingdom of God