Simply Hallelujah

Last night I welcomed the Resurrection by lighting this candle. Gently scented with lilac and amber, it was last used at Christmas, as the Christ-candle in our lockdown Advent wreath. The candle which greeted Christ's birth into our world as a tiny baby seemed the ideal light with which to celebrate his - and indeed the whole world's - new, resurrected life. 

If you feel this candle is somewhat simple and unadorned for such a grand feast, my excuse is that it's in keeping with how our Easter liturgies have been. Everything has been shortened and simplified, with processions and rituals and massed choirs all subject to Covid restrictions, though with creativity in places, and no fewer flowers than in previous years. But however they be, at the heart of all our celebrations, our joy and our hope still lies a central, timeless truth, which no pandemic can deny - that Love, having conquered death, lives again, and continues to be alive, in each of us and in our world. And there have certainly been no restrictions on Alleluias, with which my social media feeds are currently overflowing! 

Last week a new cover version of Kelley Mooney's adaptation of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah began to be shared, in anticipation of Easter. It made me ferret around, until I found the video I had first watched several years ago, of one of Kelley's early public performances of this song. It's a simple, shaky video, filmed by Kelley's cousin, showing casually-dressed singers in a small, friendly venue. And then Kelley starts to sing... with power and conviction; an understated, sublime rendition gathering strength, until... oh! that rapturous moment of Resurrection... Jesus Christ has risen, Hallelujah!

Enjoy it, and - however simply you celebrate - may Hallelujah be your song, especially in your hearts!