Memorial Day...............

This is Memorial Day weekend here in the US, and the traditional start of the summer travel season. As I type this blog, millions across our country are counting the hours until they can take off from work and hit the road, millions more have taken the day off and are packing the car, SUV or RV, and heading to campgrounds, amusement parks, coastal cities, mountain cities and just about anyplace else you can imagine just to "get away" from it all for a few days. When I go out to run errands later this morning, I am sure that (like every year) I will see the armada of RV's on the freeway, and (also like every year) I will wistfully wish that I could gas up my own RV (which is still sitting in it's winter storage facility),  and follow them to wherever.... After all, life is a journey, and the fun part is the road you take because we will all end up at the grave sooner or later (sorry if that's a downer :) ).

But of course I can not do that, because it is Memorial Day Weekend, and for me, as a Minister,  that means presiding over memorial services, visiting veterans, and thanking those who gave up a portion of their lives, and sometimes a part of their body (and those are the lucky ones), to defend my right to write this blog without fear of arrest or censorship, or fear that a police officer will be kicking down my door to confiscate the Bibles that are on my desk and stacked in boxes behind it.

Chances are that at some point during this weekend, you will see a person, usually a Veteran disabled in some way due to their service, selling red poppies. This tradition evolved from a poem written by Moina Michael in 1915;

We cherish too, the Poppy red

That grows on fields where valor led,

It seems to signal to the skies

That blood of heroes never dies.

 Largely gone now are the large, citywide parades in honor of those who gave all to our Country. What started as a day to honor our fallen Soldiers, has turned into a 3 or 4 day party or vacation. And while there is nothing wrong with getting away and spending time with family and friends (it is in fact a very healthy thing to do), we should pause during our festivities and remember for a moment those men & women who would love to be doing the same thing that we are over this long weekend, but can not because they chose to lay down their lives so that we could have the freedom to do what makes us happy.

So please, no matter if you are traveling, hanging around the house or even if you have to work,take some time to reflect and remember those who, following the example of Jesus, gave their lives so that we could live in freedom. Buy a poppy, they wont cost you much. Thank a soldier or a vet, a smile and a handshake are free.

Be safe, have fun and please, if you choose to partake of adult beverages, hand the keys to someone who isn't or call a cab.

God Bless

Pastor Brian




I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
And then he stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud,
With hair cut square and eyes alert
He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought how many men like him
Had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down?
How many died at sea?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, freedom isn't free.

I heard the sound of taps one night,
When everything was still
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That taps had meant "Amen,"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, freedom isn't free