I can’t remember when the tradition started, but it’s usually the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend that my one aunt and some of her family make the trip from Columbus to the farm where she, my other aunt, and my dad grew up with my grandparents. She meets up with my mom and whomever else can join at one of the town cemeteries, where my grandparents, and other family from generations past, are buried. They bring flowers and take care of those precious resting places. Of course, it’s not only about pulling some weeds and planting in some natural forms of new life on the site of mortality. It’s about sharing stories and laughter and joy over memories and of on-going family love-filled moments.
And so it goes for many this upcoming holiday weekend, as they intimately take care of the graves of those who served in the military. Some will place flags. Others will plant flowers or whatever else. I still remember my own cherished memory of Normandy, France, a seemingly never-ending hallowed place of fallen soldiers from the D-Day invasion, where thousands perished. And yet, amidst that scenery of shock and horror, there is this incredible beauty of serenity for how well that cemetery is taken care of by local French citizens and others. As if, in their own humble and…holy way, the most breath-taking life can emerge from the depths of the death itself.
In the end, we proclaim God has most wonderfully taken care of, and will always tend those who are no longer with us in the bodily or earthly sense. A flag in front of a grave and fresh flowers pale in comparison to the already-planted Gospel of the Resurrection in them and all of us. Regardless, such care-taking is more so for us to witness, more so for us to raise our awareness of those who, in their own awe-inspiring way, were willing to lay down their life for others. In their own amazing way, we caught a glimpse of Christ’s insistence of laying down his life for all of us, and not to demand some level of near-perfect obedience to be worthy of that cross and empty tomb, but to show us what world-altering love looks like.
And in their own humble way, those who tend to those graves will reveal an awe-inspiring tenderness and care-filled dedication. They will do their own Gospel proclamation walking among the tombstones, raising our awareness that hope and new life can still rise from the depths of death. So, in all the ways it happens this holiday weekend, and every day, for that matter, may we always be on the lookout for all the care-taking that emerges in the humble normalcy. Yes, extravagant acts of service deserve their fair share of attention of appreciation, to say the least, but this Risen Lord of ours also has a rather holy tendency of showing up in the simplicity of life as well. Thanks be to God, indeed!
In Christ,
Pastor Brad
Image: from European-Traveler.com