I do not remember....

            I… do not remember. I have no recall of a whole family of brothers going off to join the war effort. I have no memory of a military man and a chaplain knocking on a neighbour’s door to bring news of a loved one’s passing. I have no memory of crocheting small squares to be used in Afghans that would be sent to the boys out the front to keep them warm. I have no memory of not being able to buy nylons or of having to ration my sugar.

            I… do not remember.

            I have no memory of mud filled trenches or my nostrils being filled with the smell of rotting flesh or of rats running around at my feet.  I have no memory of gathering the courage or bravado required to pick up my rifle and charge the enemy lines or to see the frightened eyes of the young soldier coming at me. I have no memory of knowing that you either killed or you were killed.

            I do not remember.

            I do not remember the joyous cries when the boys came home to a changed, unfamiliar world as seen through their changed, unfamiliar eyes. I do not remember integrating men back into the workplace in jobs that had been filled by women in their absence. I do not remember the blank looks of those “shell shocked” men as they tried to forget the unforgettable.

            I do not remember.

But…I remember my father in his dress blues at every Remembrance Day Parade. I remember being grateful that his time in the US army was done just after the Korean War and before Vietnam. I remember feeling proud of two of my brothers as they went off to join the Canadian Navy, willing to put their lives on the line and yet never being called to do so. I remember being frightened when my one brother was dispatched to the first Gulf War and crying tears of relief when he returned no worse for wear.

            I remember. I remember watching the parades through a veil of tears…tears of gratitude for their willingness to fight and embarrassment at my unwillingness to do so myself. They are tears of humility not knowing if I could watch my own boys don the uniform of the Canadian Forces or be willing to let them go and to die on some foreign shore.

            Surely, I am weak.

            So while my personal memories are not of times of war, I can truly say “we remember” and mean it. As a Canadian we have a collective memory of events long past that we can envision, and even experience though we were not there and did not see. While I do not recall crying as a whole generation of men went off to war, I can truly say the “we remember”.

            I believe that this is easier, more natural perhaps, for Christians. Why? Because we remember a man we’ve never met and can recall the touch of a man who died to the world millennia ago.

            I have no memory of Jesus saying to me; today I have called you friend.  I was not there when Jesus said to love one another as we have been loved by him.  I was not there when Jesus told his followers that he would lay down his life for his friends.  I do not remember. 

            But we remember.

            “We remember his death, we proclaim his resurrection, we await his coming again in glory.”

            Sometimes, sometimes, an ability that I do not myself possess that can be provided to me by the community. So if I cannot say “I believe” perhaps I can say “we believe” and mean it. If I can’t say “I am safe” perhaps I can say “we are safe” and know it to be true. If I can’t say, “I am strong enough” perhaps I can say “we are strong enough” and allow myself to fall into the arms of the community.

            So today as we celebrate this most solemn of occasions together we can say that we remember. We remember those who were willing to do what we have not been called to do and that we remember those who answered that call and never came home.

            And we must always remember to say, thank you for your service to those in uniform.  We must always remember to show our respect to those who are willing to do what we ourselves have never been called to do.  Like your freedom?  Thank a Vet.

            If I forget what we are called to remember then I run the risk of forgetting that we must be ever vigilant to protect this place, this country, this world, so that God’s Kingdom might one day come on earth.