Last week I talked a little (at the 9:30 service) about remembrance – or rather about remembering – the value of memories and of keeping connected to our past as a people of a tradition. The week before I talked about golf for various reasons that escape me now. With the excuse of bringing these two together, I’d like to share with you a joke that someone told me after that service which I rather enjoyed.

It seems that 2 men were playing golf one day when a funeral procession drove past the course. As the hearse passed by, one of the men took off his cap and bowed his head until they were out of sight. His friend was surprised and said that was very respectful, I didn’t have you down as being so traditional. Oh well his friend replied, preparing to tee off it was the least that I could do, we were married for 40 years.

Of course it is not the simple fact of remembering that is important, but the character, and the lasting meaning of remembrance that is important. A mark of respect can by itself be meaningless, unless remembrance leads to transformation.

This week I was able to attend a particularly well done and moving act of remembrance at Acton School. The year 6 pupils and the staff had obviously put a lot of work and thought and care into it, as poems were read, poppies laid as the names of former pupils who died in the wars of the last century were read. It was a superb service and a great credit to the school and the veterans who attended. [ However, it perhaps does not reflect well on me that a particular highlight was when one poor lad got up and intended to tell us that we were gathered to remember those who had played their parts in the fighting but instead fell victim to one of those spoonerisms anyone who speaks in public dreads as he intoned to the packed hall that we were going to remember those who had played their farts.

300 primary school children managed by some miracle to keep the solemn atmosphere intact – while sadly your vicar ad to chew his fists to suppress the giggles.]

A couple of days earlier I was leading the assembly on the same theme at Wats Dyke school and found myself explaining to the children what remembrance day was all about and realising that for most of them, I was talking about events that came at least from their grandparents childhood, if not their great grandparents.

Both of these services made me think though that for most of us, who do not remember now in a literal sense, the events we are commemorating, it is even more important that we can move beyond the idea of remembrance as a simple calling to mind of the past, but that we need to allow it to speak more deeply.

I have a book of prayers from Iona one of which is a rewritten Eucharistic Prayer – and it takes the familiar words – do this in remembrance of me and changes them. It says Take this and eat it, this is my body given for you. Do this, and you will remember me wont you? When I first read those words – a very human, moving, plaintive call from the heart – you will remember me wont you – I found them very striking. But on reflection, I’m not sure that this simple emotion, while valuable, is all that is meant by those words – do this in remembrance of me.

To put it bluntly, last week I joked about forgetting your anniversary – but try this instead. Next time it is a loved one’s anniversary or birthday or whatever, remember it, but don’t do anything about it. And then when they say Did you forget what day it is, you can say no I remembered, its an important day and I’m very happy. I just decided not to do anything about it. See where that gets you.

In the say way, if we think of the thief on the cross, who appealed to Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom, what he probably had in mind was much more than Jesus looking up from the heavenly banquet at some point and thinking, oh yes there was that thief wasn’t there, I remember now, I wonder what happened to him? Oh well never mind.

We understand that Remember me meant much more than call me to mind. Rather it meant, carry me with you. In his case quite literally so, carry me with you. In the case of Jesus at the last supper, remember me means carry me with you only slightly less literally. Remembering here means not calling to mind so much as calling to heart.

So to keep this time of year as a time of remembrance means a time of calling to heart. Of moving beyond simple remembering. Not just referencing the past but truly being able to carry that tradition with us, to make those stories part of our story. It is memory with a purpose, the belief that the past can be a living part of the present and the future.

As Christians, gathering for Eucharist, we have a sacred context in which to conduct this remembrance. As we hear these words, do this in remembrance of me, we are invited to discover, at the altar, both the pattern and a home for our remembering. Jesus offers us a space in which our memories can be brought and offered, individually and as a community, be they memories of pain and brokenness and loss, of sacrifice, triumph and courage. A place where they can be made one with our remembrance of these things in his life.

And a place also where we are challenged not only to remember but to respond. To call them to heart as well as mind. To explore how these things may inform our lives and so become living memories. The Christian answer to death is life. And we remember in order to carry these things with us into life. This is how we are faithful to his calling, this is my body, broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me.

Amen.