Manor College Certification Program
A Homily for Memorial Day ‘08
None of us lives for our self alone,
and no one dies for himself alone;
alive, we live for the Lord,
dying, we die for the Lord.
Dead or alive, we are the Lord’s!
We are gathered here to remember our dead on a holiday that began for the express purpose of remembering soldiers who died in the American Civil Way, and which has broadened its boundaries to become something of a civil All Souls Day. And we just heard a passage from Romans telling us that our dying is something we do for the Lord, and so it is something we do for the Lord’s own people. Our dying does not impact us only.
Now we have traditional ways of trying to understand the relationship of the dead to the living. The Church has always taught that the dead can come to the assistance of the living, and so we may rightly pray to them as well as pray for them. They, in turn, can intercede for us, but they can do nothing to improve their own lot directly. We can assist them, and they can assist us, but they cannot help themselves. What is the relationship between the living and the dead? Our tradition speaks of the journey of the dead, and the Latin Church speaks of Purgatory, and these images may not be very compelling to us today, so I want to propose a somewhat more contemporary image as a way of looking at the relationship between the living and the dead: a sports stadium.
We, the living, are the ones on the field or court, and around us in the bleachers and stands are all the dead. We see this notion in the first verse of the twelfth chapter of Hebrews, “And so we have this great cloud of witnesses around us.” If the dead can hear our prayers, they can certainly know what is happening to us. And as anyone who goes to a game understands, while the people in the stands cannot take part in the game, they can encourage the players with their cheers, reward a good play with their acclamations, and even boo and hiss when the ball is dropped or a bad play made. In a spirited game there is an animated interaction between players and spectators. Some of us have seen players responding to the crowds in the stands, acknowledging their support or else reacting rudely to their disapproval. Every once in awhile someone in the stands might just make it onto the playing field: these are the extraordinary miracles wrought through the saints by God’s gracious dispensation. Very, very rare; but they do happen once in awhile. At some point all the players leave the field, not only at the end of a game, but eventually at the end of their careers. They, too, will eventually take their seats in the stands to watch what the next generation of athletes will do.
So that is what we do. We who are on the playing field of this world play out our life in it. And we honor those in the stands who have gone before us and who encourage us by their support for us. And we know eventually we will leave this field to join the crowd watching the spectacle.
But I want to complete these remarks by making special note on one of those spectators: a week from today (June 2nd) will be the 24th anniversary of the passing of the founding pastor of this congregation, Msgr. Russell Danylchuk, and here we are celebrating the Eucharist over his gravesite. I’m sure he’s keenly interested in the great project he initiated in forming this congregation. I’m sure he cheers for us before God, and perhaps—on occasion—groans over us when we play badly. Let us be a congregation that will make him proud, make him cheer, so that in due time, when we have joined him and those who have gone before us, we can look at this congregation from the stands and we can cheer with pride at what is built on the foundation we helped to lay.