Past Sermon

Sermon Title: "Lest We Forget "
Date: May 28, 2006
Minister: Rev. Charles E. Ensley, Jr.

Lesson:  Sirach 44:1-15, from the Apocrypha

Just three weeks ago this Tuesday, we were taking an audio tour of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London after worshipping there on May 7.  I was up near the high altar, listening to the audio about the effigy of the poet John Donne, when the audio in my earphones went dead, and I could hear a loudspeaker in the cathedral.  It was 11 o’clock, and a voice announced, “We are a praying church, and we pray every hour.  We invite you to stop where you are and join us in silent prayer.”  After about 30 seconds of silence, the voice returned and invited us all to join in saying the Lord’s Prayer.  Following that there was a short blessing.  It took perhaps two minutes in all.

As I continued on my tour, I came to realize it was not a recorded voice I had heard, for two robed clergy came around the corner from the pulpit to step into the sacristy and change out of their robes.  One clergy was approached by a man about my age, very obviously an American, who posed this question:  “If Jesus was a person who preached love and peace, why are we in a place that celebrates war?”

I saw on the clergy’s face a bemused smile, one I recognized all too well when any of us in the profession are put on the spot at the front door or as we are taking off our robe and asked an impossibly difficult question.  To this day, I am sorry I did not linger to hear his answer, but instead continued to take my cathedral tour.

The American’s question was posed perhaps in reaction to the three story monument on the main floor to one of Britain’s greatest soldiers and statesmen, the Duke of Wellington, who defeated Napoleon at Waterloo in 1815.  The monument includes a full-size bronze statue of the duke upon his horse.  In the crypt below, directly underneath the center of the dome, is an immense black marble sarcophagus containing the remains of Admiral Nelson, killed in the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805.  It is so large it had to be lowered through a hole in the main floor of the cathedral.  The crypt is full of tributes to others who died for their country.  Most interesting, for us, would be the American Memorial Chapel in the recess behind the high altar of St. Paul’s.  It honors the 28,000 Americans, named on an honor roll, who gave their lives while on their way to, or stationed in, the United Kingdom during World War II.  Great Britain remains very grateful to America’s intervention.

With all this surrounding one, perhaps the American’s question was not out of line.  Again, I wish I had stayed to hear the answer.  I think mine might have been:  “This is not a tribute to war.  It is in honor of those who gave up their lives in the defense of their country.”

We could say the same of America’s Memorial Day observance.  Since 1868, a half-dozen sites in the U.S. have laid claim to being the birthplace of Memorial Day, originally called Decoration Day, when the lives of those who died fighting the Civil War were remembered by families placing flowers on their graves.  We are not celebrating war this weekend; we are honoring those who gave up their lives in sacrifice for freedom from tyranny and oppression, for liberty, for the future of their families and for people in lands whose language they do not even understand.

Every Sunday morning during breakfast I look first at the front page of the Los Angeles Times to check on the state of the world, then look near the back of the California section to see if anyone of note has died.  For the past year or more, the Times devotes a page to the 2,700 American servicemen and women who have died through last Friday serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.  The newspaper prints full-length stories and pictures of Californians.

Here is the obituary of Army Specialist Justin O’Donohoe, 27, of San Diego.  The San Diego State graduate surprised his parents, pictured on either side of him, when he enlisted in the Army and chose the dangerous job of being a scout.

Here’s the obituary of Marine Lance Corporal Aaron Simons, 20, of Modesto.  He’s standing in his camouflage uniform, cigarette dangling out of his mouth.  He was on a break, having just taken off his armor and Kelvar gloves when he was struck by an assassin’s bullet. 

Here’s the obituary of Army Sgt. Kyle Colnot, 23, of San Dimas.  He got his general equivalency diploma at 16.  Too young for a job, he enlisted in the Army at 17.  He survived a tour in Afghanistan, re-enlisting last November, knowing he would be sent to Iraq.

The Times also lists shorter one paragraph obituaries of the other 27 Americans killed the previous week in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Reading this section last Sunday gave me the inspiration for this sermon.

The conflict in Iraq and Afghanistan has gone on now for over three years.  I have experienced people’s views of the war change over that time.  Perhaps yours have, perhaps not.  The point today is not to debate the validity or merits or fallacy of America being involved.  That is your own view to have.

Rather, what we do as a nation this weekend is not to forget, but to remember those who have faithfully served in our armed forces in the history of the United States and gave up their lives in service to their country.  Perhaps you had relatives die in World War II, as I did.  Maybe it was Korea, or Vietnam, or the Persian Gulf, or now, Iraq and Afghanistan.  Maybe you have friends who died in those wars, or have family members or friends who are still alive but in constant harm’s way serving half a world away.

You can be in favor of this conflict.  You can be opposed and protest it.  That is your right as an American.  But we cannot forget those who died.

By this Friday, I will have done an incredible five memorial services in 33 days, and that period includes being away ten days in England.  These were not for persons who died in war, but as I said at a service last Friday afternoon, no matter whether one comes out of a religious background or not, it is worth having some sort of memorial gathering.  Sometimes the deceased says they do not want to have a service.  But that deprives the family from drawing comfort from those gathered, and it overlooks the need to acknowledge a life that has been lived, no matter how short or long.

The writer of Sirach some 2,200 years ago knew this.  One of the most famous scriptures not included in the Protestant Bible is the one read today, beginning “Let us now sing the praises of famous men, our ancestors in their generations.” (44:1)  The writer goes on to even acknowledge “those who composed musical tunes, or put verses in writing.” (vs. 5)  But halfway through today’s passage, the author acknowledged not the famous, but ordinary people:  “But of others there is no memory; they have perished as though they had never existed…  But these also were godly men, whose righteous deeds have not been forgotten…  Their bodies are buried in peace, but their name lives on generation after generation.” (vss. 9-10, 14)

In the Hebrew text, there is no intimation of a future life with God in an afterlife.  This is the usual Hebrew teaching, which understood immortality only in terms of one’s offspring and good name.

It is a fact that many of those presently serving in our armed forces are young, unmarried, without children.  If they were to die, who will remember them?  Who will honor their service, and their sacrifice?

It is up to us, my friends.  It is up to the American people.  We are not celebrating war.  We are remembering lives bravely and heroically lived, especially if they are tragically cut short far before their natural time.  Whether we wander around cathedrals with monuments to war heroes, or through ordinary churches or across the grounds of cemeteries, we are not celebrating war.  But by seeing tributes to those who died in the armed services, we are remembering and honoring them, even if we do not know any of the persons whose names we see.

Lest we forget . . . lest we forget.