St. Anne’s church was packed with people on Wednesday evening. The funeral home invited them; all the families who had suffered a death this year. There was a priest and an AME Zion church pastor and me, all leading worship together.

I told the story about Emma’s gift. There is a part of the story where she finds a drenched lost kitten in a rain barrel and uses her new scarf to playfully capture the kitten (who cannot resist the fringe of colorful yarn) and a woman steps outside calling “Kitty, Kitty.” The woman’s husband died last month. She faced Christmas alone with only the new kitten for company and to lose the kitten after losing her husband seemed too much to bear. As she took the mewing bundle wrapped in a colorful hand-knitted scarf, she had tears in her eyes of sorrow, relief, and yes, joy.

Grief meets hope, sorrow bends under love, mourning fades into the serenity of joy. Indeed, there will be a tear in your eye when you remember the one missing at your Christmas dinner table. But God will provide a sign or a visitor; a song or a friend. In this tender holy season, the Christ child will enter in.

After the storytelling, each person came forward to light a candle, to speak the name of their beloved, to pray in gratitude and hope. The lights dimmed, and hundreds of candles were lifted as we sang, “Silent Night.” Tears washed away grief. Hearts warmed with song. As the lights came on, we moved to the Parish Hall to enjoy finger sandwiches and Italian pastries and freshly brewed coffee in small styrofoam cups. Just as every church funeral ends with food and fellowship, so we recessed from sorrow into joy. There were conversations with laughter. I met some new friends. I am so grateful for the blessing of ecumenism. Of church.