Remember

Reverend Philip Stringer

Luke 6:20-31

LET US PRAY: Speak to us, O Lord, with your Word that inspires the saints, that our words and deeds may be gathered with those who forever sing your praise. AMEN

I sometimes get cramps in my legs. Especially when I was younger. When I was 19, I was a summer camp counselor at one of our synod church camps — Camp Lutherwald. The camp sits on the southern shore of a beautiful kettle lake.

Kettle lakes are deep and cold. I was in shallow water — only about 5 feet deep — when I got cramps in both of my thighs. My legs doubled up beneath me like stones, and I couldn’t keep my head above water. I cried out to my friend, John, who held me up and got safely back to the dock where I could hold on. I think that he probably saved my life.

John’s brother called me last summer to say that John died of a heart attack. He is on our list of those remembered today.

My uncle Bob was a big man 6’6” — he was a farmer growing oranges in Florida, in groves that covered 7 counties. He was never afraid to speak up, but he was a man of few words. He seems to have taken the words of John Wayne to heart: “Talk low; talk slow and don’t say too much.” He was kind and welcoming. He and my Aunt Sally established a home that was for me, the happiest place on earth.

Uncle Bob died in May of this year. It wasn’t until after he died that I learned of his generosity to others beyond our family. I knew he served as a deacon at his church, but he also quietly gave from the harvest of his crops:

a check slipped to a neighbor after a bad season.

sponsoring various kids’ clubs.

generous donations to those who needed it.

He never asked for recognition; the glow of a community made stronger was meaningful enough.

He is on our list of those remembered today, also.

When Anne sent me the bulletin last week to review before printing, I sent her three names I asked for her to include on the list. It wasn’t until late in the week — after the names were printed — that I realized — wait a minute — Carl died in the summer of 2024. We had him in the prayers last year! I know that many of you know what that is like. It seems like a loved one was still here not so long ago. It is surprising sometimes how quickly time passes.

I have mentioned Carl in at least one other sermon when he told me, “The truth is not afraid of freedom of thought.”

Maybe I forgot how long ago he died because I think of him every Sunday — when I pull into the parking lot and park in the space farthest away from the doors — so that everyone else who comes can be closer to the door.

Carl became the pastor of the church in which I grew up, in 1965 — a year before we moved to the area in 1966. He served as the pastor there for 34 years. He was always even-keeled and soft-spoken, but under his leadership the membership of that congregation grew to 2,500. He earned a bachelor’s degree, two master’s degrees, an advanced certification from Princeton and an honorary Doctor of Divinity from Wittenberg University, and he was known across the church for his leadership roles in our national church body.

At his retirement in 1999 — after he sat quietly in the banquet facility, listening to person after person gushing over how wonderful he was — he stood and took the microphone — and after thanking everyone for their kind words and the lovely dinner, he simply said to them, “If my ministry has meant anything to you — if I have meant anything to you at all — then remember Jesus.”

I’m glad I forgot that he died a year-and-a-half ago, because those are words for us today, too. On this day when we remember by name those who have died in the past year — but also in our hearts all those whom we have loved who are gathered into the Church Triumphant — on this day we are reminded that what we loved in them was a reflection of their creator. If they have meant anything to you at all, remember Jesus.

Jesus was preaching to a great crowd of people and spoke these words that are known to us as, “The Beatitudes.”

His words to us today are an encouragement in grief and in anytime when you are suffering the hard parts of life. His words are an encouragement.

Ours is the kingdom of God

You will be filled

you will laugh

your reward is great in heaven

In a way, wrapped up in these words of Jesus is an underlying promise of his faithfulness to us. To say that the kingdom is ours and that we will be fed and have our sorrows removed is to say that he will take care of us. It will be ok.

And when he tells us to love our enemies and to strive for their well-being, what he is telling us is, “Don’t forget who you are. Don’t let the troubles of this world — and don’t let the hate of others — shape you.”

Don’t forget who you are

Don’t forget that you are children of God

Don’t forget that the love of Jesus for you changes everything.

Don’t forget that nothing can separate you from the love of God.

Don’t forget that love is at the foundation of who you are now.

We name those today who have died in the past year, but we remember all those whom we have loved — and who have loved us — who are no longer here. It is perhaps the worst experience of life, to live through the death of a loved one. Jesus’ words to us today — his promise of faithfulness to us in the beatitudes — is for times like that.

That is why today is a celebration. It is not a denial of our grief — we will miss the people we loved who have died for the rest of our lives. But in the midst of our grief, we remember the words of Jesus, and we remember that he is faithful to us and remains faithful to them.

We look to those we remember as examples of the power of love. We remember the ways that they were examples of faith to us — we remember the times they encouraged.

And we go forth from here, not merely as individuals making our way through this world. We go forth as children of God, heirs of the kingdom of God, messengers with good news and emissaries who go with authority to love and heal a suffering world. We go from here as God’s living saints in the world.

And you go forth remembering — and having been shaped by the lives of those you remember. People whom we see were a gift from God for us. People through whom Jesus has been present in our lives — and being gathered into Christ, they now go forth with us, too — examples and encouragements to us, who still walk by faith.

AMEN