All Souls, Year B (Transferred)

Remembrance

Wisdom 3:1-9; Psalm 116:1-8; 1 Peter 1:3-9; John 6:37-51

Last week we celebrated All Saints Day. We reflected on the lives of the Saints and what it means to be called to holiness. We reflected on our own place within the communion of saints. We were reminded that we are all sorts of saints. And today we gather to remember all sorts of saints, this time the ones particular to our lives. We come to remember also those who died in service to our country.

The celebration of Remembrance Day does not come particularly easily for me or my generation. We grew up in the sixties protesting vehemently against everything in general, but against war and violence in particular. It is not that I cannot relate to the tragedy of war. It is that for my generation there is a futility about what happened that we would just as soon forget.

But even as I say that I would just as soon forget, I know how important it is to remember. For it is in remembering that we correct past errors of judgement. It is in remembering that we learn to make life-giving choices for ourselves and for future generations. It is in the retelling of the story that we begin to see ourselves mirrored and attempt to bring about changes that result in true justice. It is in remembering that we keep the story alive for ourselves and for future generations.

And so today we remember. We remember those who died and continue to die in service to our great country. We heard this past week of the tragic death of yet another young soldier in Afghanistan. Today is also an opportunity to remember our loved ones who lived a life of faith and have died. We look back at their lives of faith, at their contribution to the world, at all they meant to those who loved them. We remember their successes and their failures. We share in their joys and their sorrows. We look back with pain at their suffering. We mourn their absence from us. It is our need as those still on the journey to do that kind of remembering, because the alternative to remembering is forgetting.

I was seventeen when my younger brother died. At the time of his death, I became almost obsessed with remembering things about him. It was as if I had to remember every detail of his life and of the way he died in order to keep him alive in some way. Some of those things can still trigger memories of him after all these years. I simply cannot hear someone whistle through their teeth without remembering Patrick. Yet at the time I worried that I would forget what he looked like, the funny things he did, the songs he loved to sing.... It was so important to me to remember him.

As I reflect on my need then, I realize that it is important to remember. Something forgotten never comes into our consciousness. It no longer plays a role in our decisions. It does not inform our relationships. If it comes back to us as a dream, we may not even recognize the symbols that help us to understand the significance of the dream. It is lost. And so it is a human need to keep memories alive. We hold the memories of those who have meant much to us in life and are now dead. That is a powerful reason for celebrating All Souls Day.

There is a sense as we gather, especially since we are also celebrating Remembrance Day, of a kind of passing of the torch, a passing of the collective memories, of those successes and failures of the previous generations. What we may forget is that when you are the one carrying the torch, you can easily be burned. When you are the one standing alone, torch in hand, there is nothing brighter. But that too can be a terrifying realization.

As generations pass and we come closer and closer ourselves to being the “older” generation, the responsibility falls more and more to us. Finally it is ours completely. There is no one else to blame for the human condition. We alone bear the responsibility.

And there is Jesus reassuring us, “I am the living bread that came down from Heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever.” What a wonderful promise that is! He gave his life in life and in death to bear the offer of life to all that may accept God's choice to love and accept them. Even more astounding is that what Christ has promised has already been granted. The atrocious event of death that threatens and appears to destroy what God has created becomes the servant that swings open the gates to everlasting life. We are citizens of the new kingdom. It remains a mystery to us; but the guarantee is that we will experience fully the splendour and beauty of the new kingdom where we can live and serve in supreme joy without the limitations and temptations of mortal life upon this planet.

As Christians we put our trust in God. We renew our commitment in faith. But we do so in faith knowing that there are no guarantees. How the secular world loves to remind us of that! But perhaps that whole realm of remembering needs to go much deeper for us when we consider mourning. For one of the things that is important to many who have suffered loss through death, is to recount things about the person. To keep the person alive in their memories.

Have you ever recognized someone before they ever entered the room? How does that happen? How do we recognize a friend before we actually see them? Animals, of course, are much more adept at it than we are. Gemma and Meaghie, my two dogs, know the sound of my car in the driveway. They know my footstep. They know the sound of my voice. I think they even sense that I am coming long before I arrive at the house. Our senses are not nearly as keen as those of our pets, but we all have people close to us whom we recognize before they ever enter the room. We know them by their own, unique personal qualities - their little eccentricities, their foibles, their habits. Those unique qualities stay with us even after someone dies.

And so today we stop and remember. We reflect on the lives of those we love but see no longer. Everyone who lights a candle today has a story about what that person meant to them. In the silences of this service think back to what they mean to you. Think of the things you did together, of what the person taught you about life and about faith. It may be a moment of great joy for you as you look back at the richness of their gift to you. A smile may cross your face as you recall the moment. Or it may be a moment of great sadness. A tear may come to your eye. I hope and pray that whatever the emotion you will remember that you are blessed to have shared in their lives and blessed to have shared in this time of remembrance.