Between Loss and Hope: Qing Ming and Easter
The irony of the day not only consisted of us intentionally visiting cemeteries on Easter Sunday, but also in showing us how little my two worlds related to one another. Almost none of my relatives knew that earlier that morning I had just preached at a predominately white church. If they did, they would assume that my vocation as a pastor only reflected how much I had assimilated into the white Protestant culture. On the other hand, most of our church friends had probably never even heard of a holiday called Qing Ming. They do not know much about that side of my life. But for us, the differences between East and West, and the contrast between life and death, all converged in our little family on that Easter Sunday.
