When we were in our home state, Judy and I followed the family Memorial
Day tradition of visiting the graves of family members (not just servicemen) who
have died. Some we never knew, but we heard their stories from those who did.
Others we did know and it still felt peculiar to stand at their graves.
Today we live in another state and Judy’s opportunity to minister
at Lighthouse means we won’t even get in our traditional attendance at a
Memorial Day service. So, I took a moment to see if I could put some
word-flowers on the graves of some in our families who served in the military.
As I did so, a biblical application emerged which I have included at the end of
these thoughts.
Both Judy and I have family who served our country. Just west of
Norwich, New York, in an old cemetery on a hill, Col. William Monroe, one of
Judy’s Revolutionary War grandcesters
and his family are buried. Col. William was the first settler in that region of
Chenango County. He is mentioned on a historical marker near the County
Courthouse.
In a remote cemetery west of Oxford, NY, are the fading remains of
the gravesites of my grandcestor, Joel Hamilton, who also served in the
Revolution.
Judy’s great-great-grandfather, Orlando Barney Monroe, served in
the Civil War and fought in the Shenandoah Valley.
My grandmother’s brother, Lynn Roys, (pictured above) was in World
War One. I knew Uncle Lynn, but was not mature enough to probe him
for his stories.
My father’s brother, Jim Comings, served in World War Two. Dad,
Robert Comings (who will be ninety-eight this June), served in the Army in the
post war years.
In 1969 I conducted my first funeral. It was for Uncle Lynn. Since that time I have stood in many cemeteries watching the passing of that generation and of the Second World War veterans.
Everyone who joins the military wrestles with the
understanding that they are committing themselves to do make the last full measure of devotion if necessary. In so doing they provide an understanding for Jesus' words to those
who would follow Him.
If any man will come after me,
he must deny himself and take up
his cross daily
and follow me.
(Luke 9:23)
The taking up of one’s cross is not about going into the day carrying a weight of unpleasantness. It is the acknowledgement of a relationship in which
we understand that we may be called upon to that last full measure of devotion to the One who loved us and gave His life for us. All His followers go through basic training and a host of learning drills. Many end their career in peace and pass without violence. Others face the rigors of front-line warfare
and yield their lives on the battle fields of persecution
Servicemen and women honored today are, to me, a signpost. They call me to consider, also, those who have paid with their lives to bring the good news of the Gospel into a hostile world. Jesus' redeeming work on my behalf makes my work on His behalf eternally
useful, not as merit but as privilege. It also makes death an entrance into living honor – an honor which each will experience and enjoy, not a monument never seen and dependent on fading
memories for others to maintain.
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