24th Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, Proper 32

Remembering

Readings: Haggai 1:15b-2:9; Psalm 98; 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17; Luke 20:27-38
 
An Indian Chief named Crowfoot once proclaimed most eloquently, "A little while and I will be gone from among you, whither I cannot tell.  From nowhere we come, into nowhere we go.  What is life?  It is a flash of a firefly in the night.  It is a breath of buffalo in the wintertime.  It is a little shadow that runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset." 
 
Those are the words of one who has pondered the meaning of life, one who has reflected on his sense of mortality and faced it with wonder and hope.  He sees death as an extension of life.  Is he not reflecting on a question that we all think about? "What happens after death?"  We all think about it, but most of us don’t talk about it.  In fact, we avoid talking about it.  We don’t even use the word.  We say that someone has passed over, or passed away, or my personal favourite, ‘shuffled off this mortal coil’. 
 
One thing is certain, as we travel through life, we are all confronted with the inevitability of death.  We must all face it, difficult as it may be to look at.  We fear what is beyond our experience.  A friend of mine once described it to me this way.  "It is like looking at the sun.  You look and then you look away."  It causes us to question.  It makes us uneasy and fearful.  We don't like to talk about it, even, or especially when we know someone is dying.  And yet I think perhaps the most tragically lonely way to die must be when one is unable to talk about the experience because there is no one ready to listen.  
 
I experienced that with my father when he was dying.  He shared with me that no one would talk about what he was experiencing.  I said that I would.  We began to talk about the whole process of dying.  Just then my sister, a nurse by profession, entered the room.  She immediately changed the subject.  He said to me, “See! I told you.”  I let him know that our conversation wasn’t over.  It was some of the best sharing I ever had with him. 
 
As we celebrate the Feast of All Soul's and Remembrance Sunday, that question about what happens after death comes to the forefront.  What we really want to know is what is life all about?  What has happened to those I love who have gone before?  How can I walk in paths that lead to life, now and eternally?  What is my place in the whole scheme of things?  Such questions are important, in fact, basic to our existence.  It is probably the most universal question known to humanity.  People of all ages and in every culture ask it.  If you question whether or not it is relevant to the average person, you need only consider the number of books that have been written about near death experience and about the afterlife. 
 
It is a universal question because death touches each one of us.  How is it possible to wipe away our first childhood experience of death?  How can we forget when it invades our family circle taking away one we love?  As we approach Remembrance Day, how can we forget the obscenity of war with the death and destruction it causes? I find it especially poignant as we hear of more and more casualities of the war in Afghanistan. We have a whole new generation of Veterans to remind us of those who have died serving their country.  
 
The questions arise from the uncertainty of the world in which we live, a world where war and violence still exist, where people die unnecessarily.  But I wonder if the real questions are the deeper existential issues, the issues with which philosophers have grappled throughout the ages.  "Why are we here?"  "What is life all about?"  "Is there purpose to our existence?"  Hopefully an underlying concern is "How should I live my life?"  Many want to have reassurance.  "I'm not certain I can buy into this religious stuff,” they seem to be saying, “but ... just the same, I want to cover all the bases.  How can I make sure about what is to come?  That I'm in on it?"  This is all part of what we are doing today as we remember those dear to us who have died and as we remember those who have died in war.  I see it reflected in the readings for today. 
 
The exiles returning from Babylon certainly questioned their existence.  They come back to find total destruction; Jerusalem has been turned to rubble.  They begin the task of rebuilding the city.  Yet it is a city that most of them have never seen before.  They have lived their whole lives in exile, dreaming for the day they would be ‘home’ yet knowing nothing of that place.  They have no memory of its former glory.   Not only that, it is a period of terrible drought.  Money and resources are in short supply.  The constant barrage from enemies hampers progress.  They question their very existence.  The job grinds to a halt.  Through it all, the prophet Haggai maintains his sense of vision of what is possible if they trust God.  He assures them that they are not alone, that God is with them as they persevere.  Of course, his prophecy did come true.  The temple in Jerusalem was restored even beyond its former glory.  It became a true memorial to those who were not able to return. 
 
Paul has a similar situation with the people of Thessalonica.  Life has been difficult for them.  It is not a temple that they need to build, but a community of faith.  Rumours about the end times abound. Such rumours are always frightening.  They cause us to examine the fragility of our lives.  They remind us that death comes to all of us.  For these early Christians there is always a sense of hope, for they have been taught that before the end times come, Jesus will return. The hope keeps coming to them that they will be spared death through some special intervention; Christ will return during their lifetime.  They look for miracles.  They look for an end to the misery and hardship around them.  Yet time passes.  Hope begins to dwindle; the rumours become more prevalent.  Paul reminds them that God has chosen them, that they are part of God's purpose.  It is a reassurance and also a challenge as they come to terms with their part in God's plan of salvation.   
 
The Gospel begins with an argument about the resurrection.  Although the intention of the Sadducees is to entrap Jesus, concern with the afterlife is certainly behind their question.  They did not believe in the resurrection.  If you don't believe that there is anything to look forward to after this life, then those deep concerns about what does happen become even greater.  And so they ask that convoluted question about whose wife the woman will be in the afterlife.  Despite its underlying agenda, Jesus answers it in a very pastoral way.  What he says in effect is that all life consists in friendship with God.  Nothing less is worthy of the name of life.  Death in no way severs that relationship.  It merely puts an end to physical existence.  Relationship is eternal.  People may lose their friend by death, but not God.  It ends with a wonderful affirmation. 
 
“He is God, not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive.” What reassuring words those are! Christ involves himself in human life.  He offers an eternal quality of life, not a quality that begins after death, but one that carries us through all of life.  It begins when we look at life through our Lord’s eyes, when we try to reflect in our lives what we see in his, when we see how his birth, life, death and resurrection offer us a lens through which we come to see meaning in our human experience. 
 
Today we remember those who have died, but are alive in Christ.  We celebrate their lives of faith.  We remember everything in which they were great.  I invite you if you have not already done so to prayerfully light a candle as a memorial for those who have died having touched your life.  On this Remembrance Sunday let us lift up also those who died in the great wars and those who continue to die in service to their country.  Let it be more than just words.  Let us be mindful of our need to be advocates for peace and justice everywhere and for all people. 
 

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.

Remembrance Day Sermon

St Francis of Assisi, Meadowvale Town Centre
Homily for All Souls & Remembrance Day
Sunday, 2008 October 12

By The Rev. Vernal S. Savage

Scriptural Readings
• Wisdom 3:1-9
• Psalm
• 1 Peter 1:3-9
• John 11:21-27

Let us pray
Almighty God, creator of all and whose mercy endures forever, bestow upon us your people gathered here your grace. We understand Lord that the souls of the faithful that has departed this life are in your arms. hear our prayer and console us As we renew our faith in Your Son whom You raised from the dead, strengthen our hope Lord our comforter and burden bearer in Jesus Name we pray, amen.

Remembrance Day and All Souls day – Lest we forget
We commemorate All Souls and Remembrance Day in a pensive mood and in deep reflection upon what life has thrown our way. On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, Canadians are asked to pause and remember the thousands of men and women who sacrificed their lives fighting for freedom and democracy during the First & Second World Wars, the Korean War, the Afghanistan conflict and those who die during peacekeeping missions. It is very appropriate for us to have these days combined. It is understood that there is probably only one Canadian survivor from the First World War.
The first Remembrance Day was held in 1919 throughout the Commonwealth, called Armistice Day. The day commemorated the end of the First World War on Monday, Nov. 11, 1918, at 11 a.m. — the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month.
I was asked by my mother to carry something down to my grand uncle. I was probably seven or eight at the time. It did not seem like anything out of the ordinary at the time but little did I realise it was to become an experience that has become indelible written in my mind. When I reached there and greeted him I noticed that his face was disfigured. of course I became very curious as to why it had that appearance. The irony is he had some difficulty moving about but that did not arouse my curiosity. He realised I wanted to ask about his face because I chose not to just deliver the items and leave but instead kept staring; fortunate for me he decided to oblige. He began relating his story being at the frontline in the World War. He explained that his face became like that because of the many days and nights of fighting without sleep.
There are many stories we can all share about the wars. They may be similar but that is not the point really. We are beneficiaries of these brave and courageous persons who gave so much, their own lives. There story can be told in the words from the passage from Wisdom as it states,
“In the eyes of the foolish, they seemed to have died, and their departure was thought to be a disaster, and their going from us to be their destruction; but they are at peace.”


So we come to this day many of us with a heaviness of heart as our inward being seeks to commemorate those we love who have died. There are no words adequate enough to describe the loss felt. These faithfully departed whose names shall be read out shortly for many of us they reminded us of our true selves. They gave of themselves and therefore we join in faith to commemorate them.
We remember them as the part they played in our lives comes to life.......they were our confidant...........our best friend........grandmothers and grandfathers, brothers and sisters........colleagues.........they were probably the disciplinarians..........champions of the faith.........we are the ones here to tell their story......
It is worthwhile to quickly add that death occurs in relationships as well. This may occur in a marriage, deep friendships and we still experience the grief. George Matheson was only fifteen when he was told he was losing what little poor eyesight he had. Not to be denied, Matheson continued straightaway with his plans to enroll in the University of Glasgow, and his determination led to his graduating at age nineteen. But as he pursued graduate studies in theology for Christian ministry he did become blind. His sisters joined ranks beside him, learning Greek and Hebrew to assist him in his studies. He pressed faithfully on.
But his spirit collapsed when his fiancée, unwilling to be married to a blind man, broke their engagement and returned his ring. He never married, and the pain of that rejection never totally left him. Years later, as a well-loved pastor in Scotland, his sister came to him, announcing her engagement. He rejoiced with her, but his mind went back to his own heartache. He consoled himself in thinking of God’s love which is never limited, never conditional, never withdrawn, and never uncertain. Out of this experience he wrote the hymn, O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go.
His song captures the unmoveable faith that endures in such circumstances, that offers healing,
O love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee:
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its
May richer, fuller be.

O light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee:
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day,
May brighter, fairer be.

O joy that sleekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee:
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain
That morn shall tearless be.

O cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee:
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

We are well aware of the fact that death comes to us in the same way it did to Jesus. What does this gospel mean then? Christ reminds us in the gospel of His immense Love by risking His own life as He responds to the call of His friends (7–16). It was very dangerous for Him to go respond to the call of His friends in Judea but he took the risk anyway.
When Jesus came he listened to the concerns of His friends, Mary and Martha, and assured them with His word. Mary had no hesitation in talking to Jesus about her grief. It says a great deal about him and about trust. In verse 35 of John chapter 11 it is noted that Jesus weeps. This is one of those moments we can appreciate that Jesus identifies with our sorrows.

We as a community in St Francis of Assisi are being similarly asked to provide comfort and to risk ourselves to listen and bear one another’s burden. The love and consideration demonstrated to those who have suffered loss is very important. We are being asked to deepen the ministry. As we are told in Romans 12:15 Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.

There is a fallacy in the society that looks at crying to be a sign of weakness which is certainly not consistent with that of the church. Earlier this year when my nephew died I cried. Yesterday I rejoice with my two nieces who graduated from university.

At the same time Jesus is telling us some wonderful news: for those who believe, death is not an end but a beginning. Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” It is but a transition to a new life that is so beyond belief we can't begin to imagine it.

Lazarus and his sisters were very special friends to Jesus. He thought of him as a brother. His feelings of friendship and love made him raise Lazarus from his tomb, giving him back to his sisters. But that is only the beginning. His feelings lead him to his death on the cross for them and for us.
They knew that Lazarus would die again. God in Christ Jesus is saying to us this morning that this belief we exercise in the resurrection and the life grant to us comfort. As we commemorate this day we can join with others who have had lost and in Christ share his love. We can join with the songwriter in agreement in Jerusalem the Golden as it states,
Jerusalem the golden,
With milk and honey blest,
Beneath thy contemplation
Sink heart and voice opprest,
I know not, O, I know not
What joys await us there,
What radiancy of glory,
What bliss beyond compare.

This is the hope we live in as we commemorate the faithfully departed. In Jesus name, Amen.