Dave Crombie St. Andrew's United Church Spruce Grove, Alberta http://www.standrewsunited.org Everything Bob Coates, who is with us from the Legion, is used to another preacher's sermons. Coming here for Remembrance Sunday, he was probably wondering how long it takes for me to address a topic. Then he saw the topic. Everything. Wow. That might take more than fifteen minutes. But perhaps not! Everything is not the scope of issues I plan to talk about. "Everything" is the one simple answer to this question, "How much should I give?" We don't dance with one finger. We put our whole body into it. We don't sing by simply moving our lips. The sound has to begin from deep within. We don't worship by reciting or hearing a few words. We open up our whole selves to the Spirit of God. We give to this moment in God's presence - everything we are. I am not talking about what amount of money one should give to the church. I am talking about how much of ourselves we are called to give in living relationship with God and all creation. We are called to give - everything. And who is it who calls us to give everything? Certainly the persons mentioned in the scriptures read today, Ruth and Boaz, Jesus and the widow. They risk everything. They give everything. We all have to consider what our financial responsibilities are to the various communities in which we participate. But financial considerations and all considerations need to come from a total commitment to living with faith in God's creation. The widow's two coins are not just money. They symbolize something. What do they symbolize? Everything. She gives her everything, her all. Parents sometimes ask me what the fee is for baptizing their children. There is no fee. The cost, however, is everything. The one who paid the cost calls us to follow him, to live and love with abandon, to give to life and all that participates in life, not a part of ourselves, but all of ourselves, everything. An article in yesterday's Globe and Mail alerted me to a web-site put together by Stephen Davies, an instructor at Malaspina college in Nanaimo. Stephen Davies gives his all to this web-site project that collects and makes public letters and photos of individual soldiers who fought in the First and Second World Wars. One collection concerns George Adkins, the youngest of three brothers from Westlock, Alberta. George joined up in 1915 at the age of 26. His brother, Marty, was killed in June 1916, and his brother, Bill, shortly after that. George alone, survived. After the war George married and resumed farming near Westlock. He moved to Victoria, B.C. in 1944 where he died in 1950. A letter was written to George by a comrade a decade after the war. The letter dated August 27th, 1928 was written by an I. W. Anderson who had moved to the United States. The most powerful part concerns the death of George's elder brother, Marty, or Mart, for short. "You will remember after the June 3rd scrap, I was corralled for the Orderly room because of Sergeant Sharpe (the Orderly Room Sergeant) having been wounded. Well, if I remember rightly, Mart was killed the next trip into that hell-hole, which would be about the 18th of June, 1916, at a point, judging from where his body was found some 500 feet east of Maple Copse. I remember when his personal effects were taken from his body, we found a note - a note which left so deep an impression on me that I have never forgotten it and never will, for I consider it one of the sublimest acts of heroism of which I have ever heard, of which one seldom hears except in the pages of romantic fiction. The words were written after he was wounded and in the brief period before he died: On the Battlefields of Flanders, Good bye Mother, good bye all. Mart." What do you make of a young man who with his last bit of strength writes a goodbye note to his mom, and then says good bye to all and signs his name. He sounds to me like someone who loved life and loved people. The battles of the First World War were indeed hell, but here a man gives this overpowering expression of his humanity. Mart Adkins gave everything, not just his breath and his blood, but his soul. His brief words point to the absurdity of war. On the battlefields of Flanders, goodbye. Why should a young man from Alberta be mortally wounded on the battlefields of Flanders. He should be plowing and seeding and harvesting those fertile fields around Westlock. But a crisis much larger than himself called Mart Adkins, and he gave everything he had to its resolution. What blows me away is that he tries to communicate something before he dies. In saying goodbye to the living, he gives everything to life. In a dehumanized situation Mart Adkins says in this brief note, "I am a human being, born of a mother, and related to many others by blood and friendship. While I have this breath of life, my last thought is for my loved ones." George, Marty and Bill Adkins gave everything. Marty and Bill gave everything and died in Europe. Bill gave everything and had to bear the burden of living in Canada with those memories and that grief. And yet living is a beautiful as well as a terrifying burden: missing loved ones, remembering their sacrifice, encouraging ourselves and others to be hopeful, and trying in our own lives to justify the many gifts to us and the many sacrifices made for us. It is wonderful that a decade after the war Mr. Anderson could write George Adkins and talk about both sides of their experience, the genuine bonds of friendship, and the terrible losses. Some might think that Mr. Anderson should have left it alone, and that the best thing for George Adkins would be to put the horror in a box and forget it ever happened. But you see, when we do that, when we deny what we have experienced, then we are only partly living. When we forget Remembrance Day and ignore our collective historical experience, then we are only partly living. When we reject our faith tradition without trying to understand it, then we are only partly living. When we forget or want to forget our church's involvement in diminishing the culture of native people, then we are only partly living. We settle for partly living from time to time, but we are called to much more. These three brothers from Westlock and all who served in the conflicts and who kept their humanity in an inhumane situation, they call us to live fully. By the example of their lives, they call you and I - to give everything. I was struck by Jesus' words concerning the poor widow who put her two copper coins into the temple treasury. "She out of her poverty has put in everything she has." If we were thinking about giving a part of ourselves, wouldn't we look to our riches and our strengths? Wasn't there a song by the Barenaked Ladies - "If I had a Million Dollars." If I win the lottery, then of course I will have a few bucks to spare for some good causes. If I had a lot of teaching ability then I could give some of that teaching to others. If I had many lives to live, like one of the immortals on the Highlander series, then I could be a soldier and risk one of those lives on the field of battle. But all I have is me, with all my limitations. When I give from my riches, I am not risking too much. I still have plenty for my own security. Indeed I expect something in return for my giving so that I can add to my security. This is the transaction against which Martin Luther spoke with such passion - the notion that our good works secure us some measure of grace from God. It ain't so! God gives everything of God-self. Isn't that the message of the cross? And will we give a measured amount from our riches and expect a profit in return for our investment? George, Mart and Bill Adkins gave the life, the courage and the commitment they had. Their cause was something much greater than self-preservation. When we have much and give little, then there is little meaning in our giving. What the scribes seem to give, according to Jesus, is appearances. They make an appearance of being religious by saying long prayers. And what begins to matter to them are appearances, being greeted on the street, having the best seat. Perhaps appearances are appealing once again in the new age of virtual reality. There may be days at work when all we want to do is put in an appearance. Certainly appearances can be important when they express with integrity the deeper truth, when the neighborhood that appears nice actually is nice, when the soldiers who march actually are disciplined, when the church under the cross actually cares for creation. But the message of Remembrance Day is that many gave much more than their appearance. It wasn't a photo opportunity. Horrific circumstances forced them to put their lives on the line. Thanks to their sacrifice we now live in less critical times. But if we choose to be shallow and to live only for appearances, that will be our choice. The Adkins brothers call us to do more, to live a passionately in our time as they lived in theirs, to give as they gave, which means giving everything. If we are called to give everything, then surely that includes our intelligence. In a few weeks we will exercise our democratic right in casting our votes. Surely this is at least part of the package that we have received from the Adkins brothers and all who served in the conflicts of the last century. We can be cynical and raise ourselves above the process and choose not to vote. But that would be giving nothing, when so many gave everything. I encourage you to vote and to do so with intelligence as well as with passion, in fact with everything. In the same way, Helene and Randy and the members of the Finance and Stewardship committee keep us informed about the congregation's financial situation, so that we can give intelligently as well as passionately. But what is most powerful is when we give from our weakness, when a person who is nervous comes to the mike to share her prayer, when a person who is not out-going opens up and smiles, when a rigid person connects with teenagers, when a person who never hugs opens his arms to someone in need. Mart Adkins was a soldier with a rifle, trained to kill, but he gave us a human being connected with family and friends. The poor widow had two copper coins which together made one penny. She gave them both, because what she was really giving was herself. Wonder about this. Do you think her self-giving encouraged Jesus' self-giving? Where do you see people giving their all? I am glad that Stephen Davies gathers the letters of the soldiers who fought in the wars. We need to hear their stories. But I think we can also look at the persons around us in the pews. They have powerful stories. Perhaps they don't see them as powerful. Perhaps the power is something that God wants us to see, as we open our hearts, as we listen to each other, as we find the courage to live more fully. God help us all to share our strengths and weaknesses, to live with intelligence but not limited by fear, to live with passion, but the kind that builds rather than tears down. May the Spirit empower us to give to the Giver of life, not a pittance, nor a portion nor a part, but everything.