Memorial Day

Last night, Second B hosted our fifth annual Memorial Day Weekend service. Congressman Arrington, Lubbock Mayor Dan Pope, and many from the VFW and American Legion communities were there. Most significantly, several Gold Star families were with us. We gathered for them and for their loved ones. 

One of my parishioners and dearest of friends Bob Howell spoke. He is both a Gold Star son and also a veteran himself. His father died in Vietnam in 1963.  Bob said that means his father's name is on the first panel of names on the wall at the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington.  It was early," Bob said, "but not too early for my dad." A half decade later Bob was shipped to Vietnam also. He returned. Some of his brothers-in-arms did not. 

Bob stood and saluted the pair of empty boots, rifle, and helmet at the front of the church then ascended the chancel where he and paused kissed the folded which draped his father's coffin at his funeral 54 years ago. "Thanks, Dad," he said softly.

Bob is the most resilient man I know, a sign of hope and beacon of light for so many others. A trauma counselor for several decades now, Bob has held the candle for countless others as they walked the valley of shadows and darkness. He is the essence of what Henri Nouwen called, "The Wounded Healer".  Bob's wounds are a source of healing for others. 

Bob talked about that moment his mother received the news. Bob was 12. They were living in Hawaii, where his father -- a career Air Force serviceman -- had been stationed.  He was upstairs when the knock came. A military officer and a minister were standing there when his mother opened the door. Bob said that from upstairs he could hear his mother shriek. "I'd never heard my mother's voice like that," Bob said. Speaking of his mother and himself and his two siblings Bob then said, "All of us were haunted from that day forward."

I know Bob's mom and I know something of the tragedy which has befallen them, in part because of Mr. Howell's untimely death. Bob shared of his sister's struggle with mental health and his brother's battle with substance abuse. Each of them died early because of these things. And I know that Bob has had his own struggles, his own yet unhealed wounds. 

We say, "All gave some; and some gave all." But some still give. Day after day, and year after year, they still give. As Whitman phrased it in his elegy for the Civil War dead, "the living remained and suffered".

There is suffering and wound in Bob Howell, but there is also hope. He and his mother - whose deeply joyous spirit I have had the privilege to get to know over these years -- they are survivors.  They are not victors or champions or some other heroically-laurelled God or Goddess, but they are survivors. They endured. Day by day, they still still endure. And they endure with wisdom and with strength. 

On the night after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Bobby Kennedy shared with the grief-stricken crowd his favorite poem, whose meaning had no doubt touched him amidst the tragedies that had befallen his family. President Kennedy and Dr. King had in a real lost their lives for the sake of their country. Bobby would do the same just a few months later. The words of Aeschylus are true for their loved ones, and indeed true for all who have lost a loved one anywhere and for any reason and have to go on living with the wounds.  This is especially true for Gold Star families. It is specially true for Bob and his mother:

Even in our sleep,

Pain, which cannot forget,

Falls drop by drop

Upon the human heart

Until, in our despair, against our will,

comes wisdom through the awful grace 

of God.

Today is Memorial Day.  We owe you and your loved ones so much. We could never repay it.  We would never wish to. You would never wish for us to. So let us then instead settle for saying to you thanks and wishing you peace. 

http://www.kcbd.com/story/35536999/lubbock-remembers-the-fallen-with-memorial-day-service-at-second-baptist-church