In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
In the middle of winter, even a well-managed cemetery is a bleak place to visit. It is not designed to be this way: trees and shrubs and flowers are carefully planted to give color and beauty to the resting place of loved ones, to a site of mourning and grief. But winter comes with cold winds and freezing temperatures, with snow and ice. Life retreats: green disappears, the lawns turn brown, leaves fall, and branches look like dead sticks while the gravestones stand sentry and time goes on. For those weeks of winter, it is a place where all seems dead. This year, it seemed like the cemetery itself was buried under a cloak of white death.
But it is not so. Though sometimes it seems like it will never happen, the sun will rise higher with warmth and light, and the cemetery will be more a like a garden again. Those trees and shrubs and lawns are not dead forever; they are merely dormant, waiting for the sun to bring them back to life.
With that, the Lord teaches us an important lesson: what is true for the trees is also true for the people of God who rest from their labors. The Son of God comes to bring them back to life. Where Jesus, there life.