So now it's time to get the sermon finished. There's a well -known poem lots of my colleagues use about how the stone was moved away from the tomb of Jesus (as the story goes). I mean was it moved away by Jesus from the inside, or by someone from the outside, or a mini-earthquake, or ... ??
Me, I'm more interested in where the stone is NOW. I mean your stone, my stone, everybody's got a stone or two, that leaden lump inside that keeps the life force from flowing through us freely and without impediment.
So this week, I'll be handing out stones for Easter. Pretty stones in all kinds of natural colors (more than you see here) that have had quite a journey from their cave homes in Brazil, to a crazy mineral shop on Long Island, to a UPS van, to Las Cruces, New Mexico. And on to El Paso, Texas.
We'll meditate on the stone in each of our hands for a while, and then give to the real stone in our hands the stone in our hearts that blocks our living in full. Guess I'm not so concerned with how the historical stone got moved back then, as with how to move the stones I've got now - like thinking I'm too old, too weak, too scared, you know the kind of stuff.