Knowing and Remembering Well

Today at work I summarized the life of Queen Elizabeth II for an exhibit, struggling to choose what information to include. It was a daunting task given how public a figure she was, how long her life was and how much was asked of her. Then this afternoon a woman came in carrying some items to donate, including a set of lawn bowls.

When I saw her, I have to admit that my first thought was that we already had how many sets of those and did we really need more. She said she didn’t want any of the things back, and that she was going through her stuff and down-sizing. Looking at her she seemed familiar and I asked her name. As we talked it came out that she had been inducted into the Ingersoll Sports Hall of Fame and that those particular bowls had been the ones she used throughout her career, including when her team won a Canadian Championship. Suddenly those lawn bowls had much more value.

With the Queen’s funeral and as the congregation I serve keeps on remembering and honouring the lives of members lost during Covid, the importance of legacy has kept coming to mind. It has been challenging to celebrate the lives of people I never met. I’ve only been involved in two funerals to date and found the weight of facilitating that final goodbye for grieving people a bit nerve-wracking

When earthly lives are over it is important to acknowledge the ways that God’s grace, love, wonder and service were brought into the world through them. It’s much easier to honour someone we knew well. We have an idea of their personality, gifts and history and what made them tick. Like the story of the violin without value until played by a master musician, we can miss the value of others’ lives if we never heard the music God enabled them to make.

I had my times of thinking the ten day mourning period of the Queen was a bit much and I was just over it. However, people were still waiting for twelve or more hours to walk by her coffin for just a few seconds of time to pay their respects and say thank you. They felt that they knew her through her calm and resolute faith and messages at times of crisis. I suppose I felt that I knew her too, tuning in to her Christmas message each year and following news of the royal family (I came by it honestly - my mom emigrated from England).

Though not nearly as celebrated as the Queen, those who have lost their lives in my congregation lived for God and touched people in unique ways. Their stories are important, and like the woman who came to the museum today, it matters that we listen to those stories and celebrate them, and, wherever possible, while people are still alive. I feel the importance of knowing my congregation beyond the surface so that I can speak to who they were and how God called and used them. What a blessing to hear their journeys and the remarkable things they have done, the challenges overcome and the resilience needed and provided by God.

May we make the effort to know those in our midst - in our congregations, extended families, neighbourhoods and workplaces. May we recognize that their stories are because of God and remind others of God’s presence and guidance shown to them. May we treasure them in life and in death, celebrating Christ made known through them and their rich legacy.