Gayle Bach-Watson, Pastor,
St. John's United Church of Christ
8 North Second Street,
Woodsboro, Maryland, USA
church: 301- 845-7703
home : 301-831-3874
The Bell Calls Us to Silent Worship
The Organ Prelude
*Call To Worship
L The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God,
and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.
P And also with you.
L Happy are the people who serve God.
P Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.
L Let us pray:
P Loving God, as we gather here today our hearts are full of memories of
friends, comrades, and countrymen who served under arms in the wars of this
century. We come to remember those who fell in battle and those who, while
they did not die, offered their bodies, hearts, and energies fighting for a
better world. We ask Lord that you would grace us with your presence, that
you would help us in our pain, and that you would hear our prayers and have
regard for our thoughts this day. Bless us – and bless all those who gave the
best of themselves for our country – we ask it in Jesus’ name. AMEN.
*Hymn Red # 9 "Our God, Our Help In Ages Past"
Prayer of Confession
Leader: If we confess our sins, our God is faithful and just, and will
forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
Unison: Gracious God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, we confess that we
have sinned against you in thought, in word, and in deed, by what we have
done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole
heart and mind and strength. We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. In
your mercy forgive what we have been, help us amend what we are, and direct
what we shall be, so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways,
to the glory of your holy name. Amen.
Assurance of Pardon
"Gloria Patri" Red # 338
Joys and Concerns
Prayers of Intercession & Pastoral Prayer
The Lord's Prayer (Debts) Text can be found at Red pg. 21
Hebrew Scripture Wisdom of Solomon 3:1-9
Gospel John 15:9-17
Children's Message
Sermon "Remembrance" Gayle Bach-Watson
*Hymn of Response #65 "My Country ‘Tis of Thee"
*Statement of Faith Red Page 15 (bottom) The Apostle’s Creed
The Offering
*Doxology Red # 356
*Prayer of Dedication
*Hymn Blue # 385 "Heralds of Christ"
Parting
Leader: Here, before God in his sanctuary, here, amid the love of his people,
here in the somber embrace of memories more precious than any gold.
People: We have come to remember, to be renewed, and to give thanks. In this
silent moment, be with us as we pray.
"The Last Post" **
(Please observe silence for those who have served so valiantly, "Eternal rest
grant unto them, O God, and may perpetual light shine on them. May the souls
of the righteous, through your mercy, rest in peace….")
"Reveille"
*Benediction
*Choral Amen Red #386
The Organ Postlude
**A lone bugler plays the "Last Post" during Remembrance Day (Canada) and
Veteran’s Day ceremonies. The "Last Post" signifies the end of the day in
military camp, and in Veteran’s Day and Remembrance Day observances it
symbolizes death. This is followed by two minutes of silence. Then "Reveille"
is played. "Reveille" signals the beginning of the day in military camps, and
in Veteran’s and Remembrance Day observances it is a reminder that the memory
of the death lives on and that life triumphs over death through our savior,
Jesus Christ.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Remembrance"
A Sermon for Veteran’s Sunday
November 12, 2000
Preached at St. John’s United Church of Christ
Woodsboro, Maryland
Gayle Bach-Watson, Pastor
Almighty God, bless the words of my lips and the meditations of our hearts
that they be of profit to us and acceptable to you. Amen
Today during worship we remember and honor those who have fought for our
country, to remember those who did not return.
Consider the fact that more than half of all Americans were not yet out of
elementary school by the end of the Vietnam War. Only one in 20 Americans
living today were out of elementary school during World War II.
Most Americans alive today have never experienced a worldwide conflict . . .
Have never experienced the sadness of seeing friends and family go off to war
. . .
Have never experienced the anguish of receiving the news, "The President of
the United States regrets to inform you . . ."
And yet even though many were not yet born during the wars that have plagued
our country, we ALL must remember today ~ that is what Veteran’s Day is about
~ Remembering those who gave the ultimate sacrifice and fell in defense of
their country, our country.
"Greater love has no-one than this, that he lay down his life for his
friends."
There are many people who would suggest to us that Veteran’s Day is outmoded,
that it is a religious observation that should no longer be practiced,
that the time for remembering the sacrifices made in wars long
since past is no more – and that we should instead get on
with other things.
Some even suggest that Veteran’s Day glorifies war and encourages people to
think that it is acceptable,
that to die fighting for one's country is a good thing;
and so they say - don't do this - don't remember - do something
else, speak about the horror of war,
and proclaim that God is against all violence,
against all forms of man's inhumanity against man.
This, my friends, misses the point of Veteran’s Day. It equates the act of
remembering the sacrifices made in the past by soldiers of our country with a
glorification of war and suffering. It considers honoring the memory of those
who have died with honoring the kind of actions they found themselves having
to make
in the midst of a struggle that ~ in the end ~
none of them really wanted to be part of ~
but believed that they must be part of if others were to
dwell in the freedom and in the peace that God wants us all to have.
"Greater love has no-one than this, that she lay down her life for her
friends."
My Gransfather served during World War II. My father served in the Air
Force during the Korean Conflict. My husband served in the Navy during the
Vietnam War. If called, I too, would have served my country in the United
Sates Army. Of all of us, the only member of my family who has seen active
combat is my father-in-law. My father-in-law was in the Navy during the World
War II - he served on the U.S. Sailfish, a submarine. I have been married to
my husband for 20 years now, and I have only heard my father-in-law speak
about his time in the service once. Until last summer I did not know he had
been in the submarine corps. Until yesterday, I did not even know the name of
the submarine on which he served.
Some things are hard to talk about it - even when you remember them.
I have listened to many people talk about their wartime experiences ~
World War II, Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf...
what they talked about was the night they got lost in port,
what they talked about the food that they had to eat,
what they talked about the practical joke that had
been pulled on a fellow soldier.
Aside from these things - little was said about the war. What they really
remembered best - they did not speak of. It is hard to really talk about the
details of what happened,
the real costs:
how your comrades died,
how fear gripped your heart,
how your parents, your brothers or sisters, and
your friends paid the costs of war,
and of how your own minds and hearts were affected and
would be the same never again.
Our most important memories for the most part are silent ones,
ones that we do not talk about because of the pain in them...
and because they are almost impossible to share with anyone
who has not been there with you.
But the memories are there,
and you do remember, mostly in silence,
and sometimes aloud - when the mood is right....
It is not necessary that you share the memories you have aloud with us, but
it is important that we who were not there understand just what was done for
us.
It is important too that you who were there, those of you who fought, and
those of you who served here while friends died across the seas, feel that
all that happened was worthwhile, that it made a difference, and that those
who sacrificed so much, are honored and remembered.
It is ever the way that in times of peace soldiers and sailors and airmen are
not well appreciated, but this day we who have no comprehension of just what
it was like all those years ago,
do know what happened,
we realize that a great tyranny was ended,
that as the book of revelation puts it, the time for
destroying those who destroy the earth had come.
We know that there was cost,
and today we do honor those who served,
and those who died, for us and for the country we live in.
The scriptures call us all to look at the examples of the
faithful, to honor them by remembering them and what they did, and to be more
like them - to keep faith with them to hold high the torch they carried.
The scriptures we heard today call us all to remember that the good will be
rewarded, that those who have made the ultimate sacrifice will be repaid.
We are here to remember,
and it is hard to talk about what we remember
but remember we do,
both those of you who were there,
and those of us who were not.
A clergy friend of mine, who lives in Maine, recently related a story which I
found quietly moving. He says ;
"At Pearl Harbor, Oahu, I witnessed an extraordinary act of repentance, of
sorrow, and of honor. I stood in the gleaming white arched and covered
Memorial above the USS Arizona, among a church tour group of clergy. One
minister, from our group, had been there that day, December 7th, 1941 when
the Japanese stealthily flew in to ravage our Pacific Naval Fleet. As I
listened to his vivid descriptions of the horrors of being aboard a flaming
and sinking vessel as bullets flew and bombs roared, I chanced to see a
Japanese tourist stoically entering the Memorial.
"The man’s fine clothes, his long tie, his buttoned sports jacket, and shined
brown tie shoes attracted my eye. In Hawaii lawyers, corporate executives,
soldiers and ministers seldom, if ever wear ties, or jackets. Even network
television news anchors wear open-collared Aloha shirts. This man, dressed as
he was, had a purpose. His purpose was in his face as stoic as he tied to
form it. Along with him walked, two women who I took to be his wife and an
older daughter, both in conservative dresses and wearing fancy shoes. The man
appeared to be in his 60’s, spoke only Japanese and he carried an ornate, and
obviously expensive multi-flowered wreath about 18 inches across. The
minister veteran, our group gathered about him, spoke on about being caught
below deck, disoriented, the ship taking on water where he stood, fire coming
from above and smoke stealing his breath. His buddy, his friend, lay dead at
his feet as the Minister, then sailor, struggled in the darkness of his fear
and adrenaline to escape to the surface. Neither he nor the group ever
noticed the Japanese tourist or his family who walked quite near to us.
The tourist stopped turned to his wife and daughter and spoke to them. They
stood quietly, solemnly. He straightened his tie first at the neck, then by
the belt, tugged at the hem of his jacket, squared his shoulders, breathed in
deeply then exhaled as if in preparation and soberly step forward alone
toward the railing at the water’s edge above the USS Arizona. Around him
swirled other tourists apparently, to my eye and ear, all Americans, talking,
laughing, looking, asking questions and listening to our minister’s story.
Apparently not witnessing the scene of the tourist who had captured my heart
and mind.
I guessed he could not know what the words of the minister meant, but as I
listened and watched the Japanese tourist, came to the rail, bowed at the
waist, then stood erect, and said words I heard but, could not comprehend.
However from their tone and look of his face his meaning, I understood. His
meaning was one of confession, sorrow, hurt, honor, dignity, repentance, and
prayer. When he had finished his quiet prayer he gravely dropped his
flowered wreath down into the seawater, the same seawater which the minister
kept mentioning in his remembrance, and watched as the wreath floated away on
the tide.
This tourist of foreign birth struggled to keep formality, to keep face, but
his tears betrayed him as a soldier, a warrior of the air, whose own plane,
whose bombs, whose bullets, tore through our young and sank their lives. He
came, it struck me, on a pilgrimage of repentance, not to our government of
these United States, but to the grave of our young men whose lives he took in
the name of war. Stepping backward one pace, the Japanese veteran then
bowed, very deeply, very slowly from the waist, with eyes closed, stood tall,
turned, rejoined his family and, his deed done, left. The minister veteran
spoke on.
I was wrong though; I was not the only America to witness his act. As I
watched his family leave I noticed another American. He was obviously a WW II
veteran, himself on a pilgrimage. He was dressed casually, wearing a red VFW
marked windbreaker. He stood there with thinning hair and hat off in his
hand. As the family walked by him, he stepped out, away from the wall on
which he leaned, and into their path, blocking their way. For me the tension
rose. The American stood at attention, strong, straight-backed and ridged ~
then raising his right hand, slowly, stiffly to his forehead he saluted his
once and former enemy.
The Japanese tourist, deep in his thoughts and memories, stopped short,
surprise and sorrow mixed on his face. His family, eyes on the ground,
stopped abruptly and crowded closer. The American remained in salute until
the Japanese, with understanding, returned it. There they stood, tourists
passing by, alone in their shared pain, shared glories and honors and
memories and in their new reconciliation until the American slowly lowered
his arm and formally stepped backward one pace remaining at attention. The
tourist, when his arms were at his side, bowed formally, once again and to my
surprise the American returned the honor. Neither said a word. Neither had
to. Their ridged faces, wet with tears, expressed what neither could have
ever said to the other in words. And still the story of the minister went
on. How his ship, later in the war was raised off the harbor floor, dry
docked, and repaired. And how he went on, like so many others to fight so
many battles on tiny islands, against a common enemy. And of the heroism of
soldiers, marines and sailors, who though they hated war, fought for sake of
freedom. These words I heard as I stood there watching the veterans watch
each other.
The American’s wife broke the spell. She had been delayed at the Memorial’s
boat and dock and only now approached, calling her husbands name, "Ernest!."
He heard her and turned toward. And the veteran tourists, their
reconciliation complete went their ways separately but in unity for ever.
"Greater love has no-one than this, that they lay down their life for their
friends."
We must all remember you who fought for us overseas . . .
who braved the sniper in the jungle,
who filled through flak-filled skies,
who waded through the mud of Italy
who knew the heat of the desert sun and the cold of the North Atlantic . .
.
"Greater love has no-one than this, that they lay down their life for their
friends."
To love in the sense that Jesus speaks of here is freely to put the interests
of others before your own, for the sake of another’s welfare.
Love is not warm feelings. Love is not acting in the interests of others
because we are being forced to do so. Love is not giving something to others
for the sake of what we will get back.
When Jesus says that the greatest love is to lay down your life for your
friends, he is saying that the greatest love puts no ceiling on what it is
prepared to give for the sake of others. When the greatest love goes into
action, it lays down no limit to how far it will go.
We are not talking about futile gestures. We are not talking about a
pointless death. Rather, this kind of love engages in purposeful
self-sacrifice. And the purpose is the good of others. The point of it all is
to save the lives of those we love. But the greatest love is ready to give
everything, even to die if necessary.
All other forms of love, the kinds with which we are most familiar, are mixed
with earth-bound self-interest. The greatest love sets aside self-interest
and is ready to lay down its life those who are loved.
Veteran’s Day is not just a time to fast and mourn. It is not just a time to
remember those who died. Still less is it a time to say that war that is good
or honorable. Rather it is a time when we - as we recall those who gave
themselves for us,
- to remember just why it is they did what they did,
- a time to in fact remember the horror of war and vow to ourselves - never
again,
- a time to take up the torch once more and to dedicate ourselves anew to
living in such a way that we do not break faith with those who died to bring
peace to the world,
- a time to commit ourselves once again to the struggle against evil - the
struggle against the very things to lead to war in the first place.
For me, the spirit that underlies Veteran’s Day is probably best found in the
poem "In Flanders Field."
In Flanders Fields, the poppies blow
between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow.
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up Our Quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch: be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields....
Let us pray that our dead will continue to be honored and that we, and all
people, may be able to hold high the torch that they can no longer carry.
Amen.
Let us pray:
Let them in, Peter
They are very tired
Give them couches where the angels sleep
Let them wake whole again
To new dawns
Fired by the sun, not wartime's
Bloody guns
And may their peace be deep
Remember where the broken bodies lie
God knows how young they were
To have to die
So give them things they like
Let them make some noise
Give swing bands and dance hall bands and rock bands not golden harps
To these our kids
And let them love, Peter
For they've had no time
They should have trees and bird songs
And hills to climb
The taste of summer in a ripened pear
And girls sweet as meadow wind
With flowing hair
And tell them how they are missed
But say not to fear
It's gonna be alright
With us down here
Let them in, Peter, Let them in.
With thanks to Rev. Richard J. Fairchild and Kir Shalom, Rev. Peter Baldwin
Panagore, Rev. Peter Marshall "Go Down Death," Jonathan Pryke, and Lt. Col.
John McCrae "In Flander’s Fields."
"Let Them In" was made into song by John Gorka from a poem found in a
hospital in the Philippines during World War II. The nurse that found the
poem kept it all these years until the recent war brought out all the
memorabilia. Luckily, her daughter sent a copy to John." It was attributed in
Reader’s Digest to Elma Dean, circa the 1970’s. Modified slightly for this
sermon.