Two Sermons for 9th November: Remembrance Sunday

Abstract

out into the wilderness. Monumental stones give parents a chance to confess how God came through for them despite their track-record of doubts and disobedience, to tell how God provided manna from heaven and water from the rock. Israelis are bound to remember the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; to take to heart how they would be nobodies were it not for the great I AM going in and out with them. So also death does not mean nothingness and oblivion. Death involves reviving memories and keeping connections alive. Crossing over Jordan, God will make our memories better than ever when God brings all of the details of our past to mind, not to condemn us to outer darkness, but to teach us to appreciate the meanings: how who we were and what we did affected others; how God has been with us always; how God has worked to make good on the worst that we can suffer, be, or do; how Divine efforts have transfigured our failures as much as our successes beyond our wildest dreams. Holy Spirit is the esprit de corps, the tie that binds us intimately to our special people, that ignores Jordan’s boundary to organize all of us—in anticipation of our common future—into the communion of saints. Finally, whichever side of Jordan we’re on, memory spills over into thanksgiving; recounting the mighty acts of God in our lives gives way to praise. Way back when, the bible insists, God organized the cosmos, called Israel into being as a social experiment, brought each and every one of us to birth, the better to advertise who God is and how God loves. God is infinitely more than we can ask or imagine, certainly enough to keep us eternally fascinated, marvelling not only at naked Divinity but at how God is and always has been at work in each and all of us, making us ambassadors of Divine love.