November 11, 2006
Remembrance Day
READ: 1 Corinthians 11:23-34
He took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.” —Luke 22:19
I was in London’s Heathrow Airport waiting for a connecting flight to the US. An announcement came over the public address system stating that it was “Remembrance Day” in the UK, the day on which people honored those who had died for their country in times of war. The announcement further said that at 11:00 a.m. there would be 2 minutes of silence and that it would be appreciated if everyone kept that in mind. Thousands of people from all over the world stood in silence as a tribute to the fallen soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen of the UK.
The desire to remember those who gave their lives for their country is noble. Yet, as meaningful as that is, it cannot compare to the privilege that belongs to us when we approach the Lord’s Table. As we celebrate Communion, we are obeying Christ’s command that we remember His death (Luke 22:19) and to do it “till He comes” (1 Cor. 11:26). When He sacrificed His life for us, He provided the forgiveness of sins that sets us free and secures for us an eternal home in heaven.
Rather than letting the Lord’s Supper become routine, make every opportunity at the Table a true “Remembrance Day” by honoring Him till He comes. —Bill Crowder
Thank You, Lord, for dying for me
On the cross of Calvary;
Help me always to remember
What You did to set me free. —Sper
With a grateful heart to veterans everywhere... wherever you are... whenever you served... may I say, "Thank you for your sacrifices, God Bless You, and God Bless America."
A Soldier's Story
by Cpl. Shaun Sanders, USMC
In July of 2005, I was shipped home from Al Asad, Iraq. Along the way, we had layovers in Kuwait, Ireland, and Dallas. There were only about 20 of us on the flight home. When we arrived in Dallas, we were tired and weary from being overseas for seven months (this time), flying literally across the globe (again), and then having to go through the long and tedious line and inspection that is U.S. Customs.
We were irritated and exhausted, and wanted nothing to do with one another or another or anyone else. Mostly, all we really wanted was a hot shower and a decent bed. Upon completion of customs, we began walking to our next gate through a tunnel that opened up into a larger walkway, and that's when we saw them.
There were people everywhere, dressed in patriotic red, white and blue, holding signs, cheering and clapping. We were absolutely overwhelmed. There were other veterans from previous wars, as well, and one of them I will never forget. He was wearing a "Vietnam Veteran" baseball cap with the dates he'd served. I walked directly up to him and we shook hands and hugged one another.
He said, "Thank you, Marine", and I said the same. I then whispered into his ear, "Sir, I want you to know that our generation understands that you guys didn't get this kind of treatment when you came home from Vietnam. Thank you for being the better man." He cried, and I moved on through the rest of the people wanting to say thank you.
That's what it feels to be a veteran: when two complete strangers from two very different generations can shake one another's hand with a connection of experience and understanding.
Needless to say, all of the weariness and fatigue we'd been feeling had subsided. Hundreds of people had organized a welcome home ceremony in an airport for 20 Marines none of them even knew. Nowhere else in the world can you find people so supportive and caring. That's what it feels like, to me, to be a veteran. Semper Fidelis. "To those who've fought for it, Freedom has a taste that the rest will never know."
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