Carpenters Corner: Let us remember

Pinwheels spun in the af­ternoon breeze, an old wooden cross leaned to one side threatening to fall over even in the slightest breeze. A small white picket fence was set up around flowers that had been placed in colored glass vases. Unlike the life that was lost here these artificial watchmen never fade or wither. A white ribbon was carefully tied to a wooden stake and placed near the center of the sidewalk memorial. Some­thing terrible happened here and these items are all that remain to help the ones left be­hind to cope.

While we may never know what happened here, family and friends will never forget. We cannot change the past or predict the future we can only be here now in this place. Makeshift memorials line the high­ways of our country as well as highways around the world. They stand as a silent reminder, a memorial stone and sign post to jog our memories of people who met life with a tragic end. Silent and cold they stand list­less, unrelenting of their call­ing, placed with purpose.

Many have tried to leave be­hind a legacy, make their mark, or construct buildings to help others remember their con­tributions. Some have labored without the slightest inkling of a reward or lasting legacy. Stone monuments dot the landscape from Easter Island to Jerusalem erected to the memory of the victims.

One day while driving through Southern Utah I stopped in a mountain pass where pinion pines, junipers and prairie grass blanked the sur­rounding hills. I pulled into the parking lot to stretch my legs and discovered Mountain Mead­ows Memorial. A short distance from my car was a trail that led out to the monument. After a brisk fifteen minute walk i ar­rived at a wall that listed the names of people both men, wom­en and children who had been brutally gun downed. The vista where the memorial stood was breathtaking and there was a map that pinpointed the spot where the pioneer settlers were massacred.

It was an eerie place of reflec­tion. The silence was deafening, disturbing and seemed to fill the entire valley. I’ve heard peo­ple say the same things about “Ground Zero” and “Pearl Har­bor”. These two geographical locations are some of the largest monuments in the world.

In contrast some monuments are not to remember the lost but to elevate the famous. George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt and Abra­ham Lincoln are immortalized into the granite of the Black Hills of South Dakota. Located nearby is the colossal “Crazy Horse” monument which, while not yet complete, dwarfs Mount Rushmore by four hundred and ninety feet.

Still other places are to be remembered because of a great achievement. When the conti­nental railroad was completed, connecting the east coast with the west coast, a golden railroad spike was driving into the ground. A fixed, wired Ameri­can flag was placed on the moon standing proud until the blast from lunar lander lifting off blew it over. The international space station, while not a fixed monument, certainly qualifies as a statement of how the world can work together utilizing in­credible science and engineer­ing skills.

But of all the toasts given, of all the monuments erected, of all the plaques engraved there remains but one that stands above all. It was a simple meal shared by friends, an intimate embrace by loved ones which was sealed by a kiss of betrayal. It was a planned memorial by the host, where common unleav­ened bread, wine and earnest prayer was offered up before the greatest sacrifice of all time was given.

The Lamb sacrificed was per­fect, without spot or blemish, precious in the sight of the Father. And all He asks of us was that every time we fellowship, every time we sup together we would remember what He did for us.

He never meant for us to make a religious liturgy out of it or build stone monuments that reach to the sky, but instead just to remember His great love for us every time we come together.

“For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, “This is my body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.”

This memorial stone is the Rock of our salvation. He is higher then any other and wor­thy of our praise and worship. Come let us remember!