From The Rising, by Wendell Berry   There is a grave, too, in each survivor. By it, the dead one lives. He enters us, a broken blade, sharp, clear as a lens or mirror.   Like a wound, grief receives him. Like graves, we heal over, and yet keep

  Posted by Richard Rawlinson, religious correspondent   The excerpt above is from a funeral sermon by a US Catholic priest in which he berates those members of the congregation who are only in church because it’s a loved one’s funeral, but whose own souls are in mortal danger after