Resurrections

I have been trying to write this post for days. The good news: I have been to busy celebrating resurrection to write about it. The bad news: I have been too busy to reflect.

Over my kitchen sink hangs a photograph of resurrection- sunflowers growing on an abandoned lot that is home to a decaying church. It was a gift from it's artist, an man named Jimmy Heath who taught me what resurrection looks like in the world around us.

I met Jimmy first in high school when he came to talk to a group of us about his experiences and photos of the annual protest against the School of the Americas. I got to know him better in college, volunteering on a project for him at his Center for Community Photography in Over the Rhine, in Cincinnati.

Jimmy's story is an amazing story that brings me to my knees. He came to Cincinnati homeless and addicted. He resurrected at the Drop-inn Center, developing his photography and passion for community. I didn't know Jimmy at the depths, on the cross. I knew the risen Jimmy, who gave neighborhood kids their first art experiences, who was humbled by the power of expression, who shared what he had as a community leader. As the editor of Street Vibes, he taught me to look for the voice of the people society tries to hide everywhere I go.

I found out on Maundy Thursday, in the emotional throes of Holy Week that Jimmy died in 2007, almost 18 months ago, and I didn't know.

By way of a friend, I heard the Rev. Lynice Pinkard say that resurrection is life from loss. The loss of an active faith community inspired new plant life to bloom in the neighborhood. In Jimmy, the loss if so much in his life was transformed into leadership and vision for a community.

As I have tried to live at the mouth of the tomb this week, it is through witnessing the resurrection if Christ reflected in the resurrection in the world- like Jimmy- that give me the hope, the courage, the passion, and the vision will need to live a minstry of resurrection.

In memory of Jimmy Heath and all he gave to the world. I hope some day I can honor his legacy.