This exploration of the Lord's Prayer approaches the traditional reading from a rationalist/humanist point of view with an emphasis on social justice and inclusion.

Time heals and reveals all ...

	Nemo ante mortem beatus habendum et.

This volume does not aim to be the light, but a mirror to reflect the experience of others. It can shine into the darkest recesses of our grief and sadness. It can illumine the path we must walk, a path others have walked before us and on which others shall inevitably follow. It is a light of hope, a light that will guide us out of the valley of the shadow of death into the sunlight that warms the earth and can lead us ultimately to the brightest light of all.

THE CEMETERY

Cemeteries are more about love than death. Every headstone, every plaque, every sarcophagus is a monument to love – an acknowledgement of the relationship that existed, and exists still, between the loved one and those who mourn their earthly loss. The epitaphs transcend all places, all times, all languages, even death itself. Whether it be the inscription for a child who lived but a month; or the family grave of a woman who lived till thirty-eight strewn still with flowers under the autumn leaves and the words of her parents who lived to erect her monument, and the love of her husband who carries forever the image of his wife in his heart; or the still questioning cry of the wife whose forty-two year old husband had died so young while she loved him so fondly – each is a testament to the love they shared. We only fully understand our love when confronted by death.

To walk through a cemetery is to have one’s heart opened. In acknowledging the losses of others, we understand our own loss more poignantly. And while we recognise that each relationship is particular, unique unto itself, we also recognise the universality of love and its meanings. We sense the poignancy of others’ grief in every marker, from the fallen stone angels to the newly dug plot, from the marble headstone to the candle that burns yet at the foot of the statue of the Good Shepherd. This is our destiny – to love and be loved, even beyond our earthly existence.

Our dead are not to be found at the cemetery. Their bones do but lie beneath the soil or, reduced to ashes, an urn may lie beneath a plaque that marks their earthly remains. Gravestones are monuments erected by the living in memory of their dead. When they are visited, it is to a shrine of remembrance, an honouring of the life that once was and the contribution that earthly life made to the world, however small or wide. Our dead are found within our hearts and minds, the memories that can make us break out in a smile or draw the tear on our cheek. Those we love are with us always.

To visit the grave of a loved one lost, to look upon that sacred ground, is to be drawn into the sorrow of our personal loss. When we look up and see, all around, the losses of others – we know we are not alone. Rather we are united by the awareness of what is shared by all humankind, a common destiny, a universal need. It can also bring immense gratitude for the lives we shared – and share still – when we turn and walk back through this unique mosaic of relationships, the richness of human endeavour and experience.

The cemetery is not simply a place for burial. It is a place for renewal, an oasis of love, of hope. It is an affirmation of all we hold true and precious, the constants in a changing world. It contains our beginnings and our ends – and thus gives renewed meaning to our living day.

Welcome to Scriptus, a place to share ideas, words & images. Above all, you are invited to share your stories - experiences of fulfilment, loss, struggle, survival and triumph.