Memorial Message for the Elk's Lodge

Today we gather together to celebrate the lives of those who have went on before us into eternity. Over the past week I have been pondering what it truly means to remember someone – to re-member. To continue to live our lives in a different way in the absence of those we care about. When we remember those whom we have lost, we are reminded that while they have died, they are still part of us gathered here, the living. They are still part of our fellowship.

We have heard today many names of those who are no longer with us in physical presence. But our memories live on. We remember not only their names, but their mannerisms. Their laughter and jokes. Their families and their duty to serve them. We remember how they loved and served those of us gathered here. We remember the good that they have done, for the Elks, for this community, and beyond. For in the words of Jack Lemmon, death ends a life, not a relationship. We still hold the memory of our relationships with those who have passed.

Relationships are complex things, with a series of moments that are both good and not so good. As a result, not all of our memories are good, and that needs to be treasured as well. For if we only hold up a small piece of a person, a single aspect of who they were instead of remember them in totality, then we are not doing their memory justice.

This past year one of my seminary classmates died. She and I did not always get along. But in the end, as a reflect on her life and my time with her, I cannot help but celebrate the moments that we disagreed just as much as the things that I treasure about her. For if I can’t remember our disagreements then I have immortalized her into something that she is not, and have tainted our relationship with false memories. Instead, I remember the good and the not so good. Was a woman of great faith, who even in her short time on this earth worshipped God with her entire being. She made a laughter that echoed and a smile that was contagious. She sang in the gospel choir at school, ushering others into God’s presence through her voice and love for God. Esquire knew who she was and fully lived into her identity as a child of God. Even though we did not always see eye to eye, and could rub each other the wrong way from time to time, I miss her.

In order to honor the men (and women) who have died, we need to be able to do two things. First, we must let their good traits, those fond memories we have, so shine through us. For in the words of Clyde Campbell, to live in the hearts of those we leave behind is not to die. But, secondly, we must remember them in their totality in order to live our lives in such a way that does not repeat their short-comings. We are their ambassadors for life, in the here and now. As such, we need to live our lives the best that we can. We must let their stories become part of our stories, so they will not be forgotten. We must grieve, for we long for them to still be with us, but celebrate what they have left us with.

This is a tall order for any one person to do alone. Hence, why we have gathered together today. To support each other in the endeavor to honor the dead, by living our lives fully, to the best of our abilities now. To grieve together. To celebrate together. For this gathering is a fraternal order, a brotherhood, who live life together, and so re-member together. The apostle Paul once wrote in his letter to the Romans, None of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself. If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living. When I read these words in Romans I cannot help but think that they are as much a statement about those who live as those who have died – none of us live to himself. We are all in this together. With the hope and promise of Jesus Christ.

That hope and promise is relayed to us time and time again in scriptures. Perhaps my favorite passage, the one that reminds me that death does not have the final victory, and life is not over once we are no longer breathing is from 1 Corinthians. It reads, Lo! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable nature must put on the imperishable, and this mortal nature must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: "Death is swallowed up in victory." "O death, where is thy victory? O death, where is thy sting?" The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Gathering together at a memorial service is about remembering the dead, it is about assessing our lives through the lens of theirs, but more then anything it is about finding hope. Having hope does not mean that we will always be happy. It does not mean that grieving will be any easier. It simply gives us perspective, this is not the end. What gives you hope today and every day in this time of remembrance and beyond?

As I was reflecting on what to say to today, I could not help but think of what an appropriate this service comes at. The new year is coming. A time when hope is renewed and memories come like floods. It comes at a time in the life of the church where we celebrate waiting and mark our time more slowly as we reflect together. It is a reminder that love is stronger then death. More powerful then death. It reminds us that we cannot control time, including death, and demands that we ask ourselves how we will live our lives. Re-membering, living, and waiting. All simultaneously. And marked by candle light. Today we have once again lit candles, candles the celebrate time and the lives that marked it by living the fullest. And that gives me hope that life is never in vain or forgotten.

So as we strive to honor these men who have lived We know that no one and nothing can replace the lives of those who have died. But we also know that grace comes through gathering like this. To give thanks for how these men have embodied charity, justice, brotherly love, and fidelity. How they have helped to promote welfare and bring happiness to others in this room. They have, in the words of the apostle Paul, fought the good fight, finished the race of life, and kept the faith. And so much more. May our honoring of their lives not cease at the end of this ceremony, day, or year by the way we live. May it continue into eternity, until our hope is fulfilled and our waiting is over and we are united again. Love the living. Bring honor to the dead. Live life to the fullest.