In the waning minutes of this Easter night that will slip into a day that will mark, among other things, the running of the Boston Marathon and our twenty-fourth wedding anniversary, I am grateful for life, for the signs of resurrection, for the indefatigable light that refuses to be extinguished. I am grateful for another Lenten journey that has brought me tired and hopeful to the empty tomb.
As my friend Bob Bennett sings so beautifully, “still rolls the stone . . .”