The Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost
Remembrance Day

Nov. 11, 2001

Based on the Gospel reading: Luke 20:27-38

"God is God, not of the dead, but of the living; for to God all of them are alive." What reassuring words those are for people who are concerned with what happens after death! Who has not pondered that unfathomable question? It is probably the most universal question known to humanity. People of all ages and in every culture ask it. If you wonder about its relevance in the life of the average person, consider the number of books written about near death experiences and the afterlife. It has become a common theme on talk shows in recent years.

What is behind the question? Certainly it arises from the uncertainty of the world in which we live. Since the events of September 11th the implications are compounded to those of us privileged to live in a country where peace has been the norm. Consider how many of the stories that we heard from survivors of the Trade Centre disaster centred around peoples’ sudden awareness of the fleeting nature of life. We saw people wandering in the streets of New York in total denial looking for people who died in the wreckage. We heard stories of people who walked one way in the building and found safety knowing that others had gone in the other direction to certain death. Talk shows were filled with stories of people wanting to reconcile with family and friends before it was too late. Our churches suddenly filled with people looking for spiritual answers to the uncertainty of life. Hopefully, there is as well an underlying concern about how we should live our lives. We are dealing with moral uncertainty about the whole issue of a just war with all its implications. In these uncertain times we need reassurance, even those who do not buy into religious faith. "I'm not certain I can buy into this religious stuff. But … how can I cover all the bases. How can I make sure about what is to come? That I'm in on it?"

Uncertainty arises too from 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 any purpose to our existence? As Christians we should welcome such questions, for they come from a deep theological awareness. We are baptised to be part of a new creation that rises from the dark water of Christ's death into the dawn of his risen life. Baptism is about dying. We enter the waters of baptism to die to sin and to be raised to new life. We are buried and raised with Christ, cleansed of sin, and reborn by the Holy Spirit.

Although their purpose is to entrap Jesus, concern with the afterlife is certainly the basis of the question asked by the Saducees. In Sunday School in order to remember the difference between the Pharisees and the Saducees, we were told that "they didn't believe in the resurrection, so they were "sad you see." If you don't believe that there is anything to look forward to after this life, then those deep concerns 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.

One thing is certain, as we travel through life we are all confronted with the inevitability of death. We must all face up to it. It is difficult to look at. We fear what is beyond our human experience. That is why we want to read about near death experiences. That is why we find ourselves in church during times of uncertainty. We need reassurance. A friend of mine described looking at your own death as being like "looking at the sun. You look and then you look away." It causes us to question things for which we cannot possibly find answers. It makes us uneasy and fearful. We don't like to talk about it, even when we know someone is dying. And yet, how tragic it must be to die alone, unable to talk about the experience.

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? Will any of us ever forget the surreal shock of seeing that second plane plow into the World Trade Centre Tower? How can we forget the obscenity of war with the death and destruction it causes? How is it possible to erase the memories of friends and relatives who fought for our country and died?

Remembrance Day gives us pause to reflect on war and violence. We observe a time of silence. We reflect on the lives that were lost. This year that takes on new significance. On September 11^th we lost our sense of naivete. We no longer think that war and violence happen only far away. We suddenly face the same kind of uncertainty that is simply part of life in many countries.

It always surprises me how moved I am to hear the poem "In Flander's Fields" read on Remembrance Day. It seems to me that by now it should be trite. I memorized it in grade school, complete with every nuance. I taught it to countless school children as I prepared them for Remembrance Day assemblies. And yet there is still something so connected to our desire to be more human, that it always touches me. It has to do with the task of completing the unfinished work of those who died. It is one thing to live your life no matter how short, to its conclusion. It is quite another thing to have it taken away from you through war or violence. It is such a terrible waste. Who can say what greatness was lost to the world in the young lives cut short by the great wars? Who knows what greatness was lost to the world on September 11^th?

So what are we to do about it? The greatest memorial we could possibly offer is in the continued struggle for peace and justice everywhere and for all people. Let us consider our call to peace and justice. Let us act on it, remembering the faithfulness of God. In the face of the mystery of suffering, persecution and the evil of war and violence let us affirm that we are alive in God.