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Ain’t No Grave Gonna Hold My Body Down

Ain’t No Grave Gonna Hold My Body Down

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“Oh, there was a battle, a war between death and life
And there on a tree, the lamb of God was crucified
And he went on down to hell, he took back every key
And he rose up as a lion and he set all captives free” (from Ain’t No Grave)

 

Young Claude Ely was twelve years old in 1934.  Despite his young age Claude, sick with tuberculosis,  was dying. He claims to have spontaneously been inspired to perform and ultimately write the song “Ain’t No Grave” while his family was praying over him.

Now that is some inspiration.

Maybe I should get my family to pray over me.

It’s Easter.

I was listening to some music on YouTube this week, music videos created by the folks at Christ Church in Easton, Maryland, including one of “Ain’t No Grave”, and had a flashback to Easter of 2020.  Deep in the woes of the pandemic, on that Easter Sunday, Kim and I had a sunrise service by ourselves with coffee and the internet on the patio, under the canopy with the fire pit. That morning Kim shared a music video with me that someone had shared with her.

It was awesome.

That was the beginning of an online relationship with Christ Church’s music videos, which were and remain extremely well done, as well as the sermons of Father Bill Ortt.

My friend Frank, who, about a month after that Easter Sunday in 2020 would pass away from complications of the Covid virus, was always encouraging and once told me to keep writing and that I could weave a good story.

I don’t know how true that is anymore, but I felt the same about Bill Ortt’s sermons.  He could weave a story into a sermon better than anyone I had ever heard before or since.

Kim and I were fortunate to have attended a couple of services live at Christ Church in Easton and met briefly many of those we had come to be familiar with in the videos.

Unfortunately for us, but good for him, Bill Ortt has since retired, but I still go back and listen to his sermons and his stories from time to time.

 

Young Claude Ely eventually recovered from his illness and became a songwriter and preacher.

I suppose one could argue that we have never fully recovered from ours.  We lost friends, learning time, worship opportunities, job routines; many suffer long term post covid or post vaccine health issues.  We lost time with family, time that with some family will never be able to be made up.

Now it’s five years later, and whatever change we experienced is now baked into our routines, and except for the occasional reminder, it seems like ages ago.

And unlike that Easter Sunday in April of 2020, we are able to worship together again.  My mother, Kim, and I attended the Easter service at the Milton Methodist Church in Woolford along with 78  members of our Woolford church family.

 

It’s Easter.

And if you believe like I believe, you know there ain’t no grave that can hold us.

And today we celebrate that.

And so, we have hope.

Because we received Grace.

 

Happy Easter.

Jesus said unto her, “I am the resurrection and the Life. He that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live

 

 

Postscript:

That first video Kim shared on Easter morning from Christ Church was one featuring James Coleman titled “Jesus I Believe.”

The photo above was taken this morning at church.  The lily “tree” behind us was built by my father, originally for poinsettias at Christmas, but they leave it up year round now.

See You in September

See You in September

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An elderly couple decided to go out for breakfast recently at their local diner in Cambridge Maryland.

Though disease had infiltrated his body and mind limiting the activities that energized him and that he once enjoyed in life, going out to eat was still a treat thankfully now that the covid restrictions had been eased.  But even the once easy decision to drop into a restaurant, though still enjoyable and special, was now complicated and not just on account of the virus.

Slowly and unsteadily, relying on the aluminum frame and wheels of the walker he has to use now, he navigated his way to the table and backed into the chair to sit.

As is the routine she, his wife, body bent and looking frail but still strong in mind and determination, gets him situated in his chair and inched up to the table.

This is the ritual, whether it’s in a public restaurant or at home, that goes on day after day, multiple times a day.  Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and coffee breaks all take on significant importance, but all require a similar concern, attention, and patience.

 

On this day the breakfast itself went uneventful.

But when she went to pay the bill something very unexpected and never-before experienced happened.

She wasn’t able to pay the bill.

Not because she couldn’t afford it.

But because there was no bill for her to pay.

Someone had paid their bill already.

 

 

In these days of virtual church, Kim and I have discovered another Eastern Shore connection in Father Bill Ortt, the Rector of Christ Church in Easton, Maryland.

In a recent awesome sermon, he referred to these verses in Chapter 12 of Romans.

9 Love must be sincere.  Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.  10 Be devoted to one another in brotherly love.  Honor one another above yourselves… 12 Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. 13 Share with God’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

 

Not a bad reminder for us these days.

In his message, Father Ortt presented a good illustration of how the daily stresses we face as individuals   can affect us.  His sermon included a personal story of how he witnessed a young mother having a bad start to her day in a Starbucks in Ocean City and sharing her unhappiness quite vocally with all of those around her.

Though it sounded like this person’s behavior was inappropriate for that venue or any venue, I am sure we have all been close to losing it lately.

 

It’s tough to be a parent right now.

It’s tough to be a kid.

It’s tough to be a grandparent.

And it’s tough to be a great grandparent.

 

Labor Day Kim and I were driving home.  The next day was the first day of school for our area which meant Cameron would be starting the fifth grade and Hayley her thirteenth year of teaching at Broad Run High School.  Christian, one of my little guys in Florida had already started his first year of school by starting Kindergarten virtually, a couple of weeks earlier.

On that ride home I thought about my first days of school and particularly my grammar (elementary school) years and me in my fifth grade.  Fifth grade was one of my favorite years in school.

And so, as is often the case with me, I started singing a song.

“See You in September” was released by the Happenings in 1966, the year I started the fifth grade.

And while I drove and relived in my mind the memories of my childhood, I sang it over and over again.

At some point on the road trip my wife who had been quietly working on her iPad, looked at me and asked, “are you seriously going to sing that song all day?”

“Sorry” I said.

But I never really answered the question because unfortunately for Kim the answer was…

“Yes!”

But to the best of my ability, at least for the rest of that car ride I tried to sing just to myself as I reminisced about the excitement and that feeling of being reunited with  friends and classmates for another school year in 1966.

This year Cameron and Christian and a lot of other kids are not getting to experience the excitement that I remembered about returning to school in September.

And Hayley as a teacher can’t foster mentoring relationships that are so important to the student and the teacher.

And the parents of these students are juggling jobs from offices and homes as they also assume the role of teaching assistant.

And sometimes…they kirk out at Starbucks.

 

And Kim and I have to weigh the risks against the needs as we struggle to make our decisions to social distance with some of the younger members of the family yet continue to work out ways to provide support to our aging parents.

 

But thankfully our parents, limited now not just from the virus but by their own physical abilities, can still enjoy a time out having a meal while respecting the necessary social distancing requirements.

 

And at least on one occasion anyway, experiencing that love still exists in some hearts.  Even in the hearts of strangers.

 

 

My mother literally sobbed on the phone as she told us the story of her and my father having breakfast at the Cambridge Diner one morning this past week when someone paid their breakfast bill.

 

Maybe he or she good Samaritan saw that even after all those years, love can still be sincere and patient.

Maybe he or she was sick of the hate that we have to experience on our televisions and social media and wanted to reach back to a better time when we treated others with brotherly love and honored others above ourselves.  And through an act of hospitality, spread joy to those who may be afflicted and in need.  Even if that need might just be to have a little hope and share in a little joy while having breakfast.

Maybe this person heard Pastor Ortt’s message.

 

It was a nice gesture.

One that my mom and my dad will never forget.

And me too.

 

And so whoever you are out there who treated my parents to breakfast recently, I thank you.

And may God bless you.

 

Bye-bye, so long, farewell…

Have a good time but remember
There is danger in the summer moon above

See you in September
See you when the summer’s through*

 

Our summer is through.

Hate what is evil.

Cling to what is good.

Be devoted to one another in brotherly love.

 

And hang in there.

 

 

Post Script:

The photos above are of Christian on his first day of school, Cameron on his first day of school, Hayley on her first day of school, and me in the fifth grade.

*Lyrics from See You in September written by Sid Wayne and Sherman Edwards.