"THE FINAL ROLL CALL"

Rev. Jim Petersen

November 1, 2009

First Congregational UCC,Great Falls, MT

text: I Peter 2:1-10

 

Thornton Wilder, in his play Our Town, writes:

 Everyone knows in their bones that something is eternal, and that something has to do with human beings.  All the greatest people that ever lived have been telling us for five thousand years: there's something way down deep that's eternal about every human being.

 

It is curious, as well as comforting, how throughout human history there has been a widespread belief in human mortality.  Take the Moche (mo-kay) Indian, for instance.  The Moche predate the Inca Indians in Peru by about 1000 years.  They lived on what is called the plain of Sipan, along the coast of northern Peru, circa 100 to 700 A.D.  About twenty years ago archeologists discovered a previously unopened grave of a Moche warrior priest, in the kind of episode that bears witness to Indiana Jones.

 

The police in Peru, in trying to halt the black marketing of archeological artifacts, particularly the gold that is often found in the pre-Columbian graves in the country,

had confiscated some artifacts and traced them to a house in the Lambayaque Valley, near the pyramids of the Moche Indians.  They surrounded the house, a good old western gunfight ensued, and the grave robber was killed.  Inside his home they found an enormous quantity of precious artifacts stolen from a grave.  They found the grave, managing to retrieve more artifacts, and in the process discovered the mound of another grave nearby, which is when they called - no not Indiana Jones - but honestly a professor of archeology from UCLA, who subsequently wrote the article for National Geographic from where I steal this story.

 

The authorities proceed to secure the area with 24-hour armed guards and start excavating.  You have to understand, many of the town residents made a nice second income from robbing graves, as did their killed colleague, and they did not make much distinction between their looting the graves and the government looting the graves.  Apparently they were not much into museums.

 

 

 

At any rate, the excavation proceeds and makes an incredible discovery. This was the grave of a warrior priest whose vestments were made of gold along with other royal objects of gold and silver.  It was a fabulous find.  The royal priest was surrounded with the wealth of his high office which was to accompany him on his journey into the next life.  Yes, there is a God!  We get to keep our toys.

 

Interestingly in our warrior priest's grave in Peru five other people were buried.  There were two male servants and two female concubines, their four bodies forming a square around the priest's body.  They represented the services and the pleasures with which our priest would continue to be surrounded in the next life.

 

In addition, they discovered a fifth body buried above the priest.  This man was a soldier, carrying a sword.  He served as a sentry, no doubt directing our priest's safe

journey into the next life and beyond.  

         

So in summary, six in the grave, giving Moche Indian testimony to the Thornton

Wilder quote, "Everyone knows... that something is eternal, and that something has to do with human beings."  However, what I want to point out is in the Moche Indian time and place in history this something (that) is eternal was not for everybody.  In this primitive culture only royalty was considered divine and everlasting.  That's why the built the pyramids, in Peru as in Egypt, to immortalize the kings and queens, as they entered the next life.

 

But the others in the grave were not there because they were considered divine and everlasting.  They were there because they were dispensable.  They had value only in relationship to the royalty.  Their life served the priest, not only on earth, but now eternally.  Apart from the priest there life had no meaning.  So they accompanied the priest to the grave, whether they were ready or not, which they were not, for their deaths were not natural.  And they were the lucky ones.  No one else from their class and clan would make it to heaven.

 

Now consider if you will a modern memorial to the dead.  The one in our nation's capital, the Vietnam War Memorial.  As you may recall, it was the result of a national contest held by a private committee formed by a Vietnam veteran who in 1979 saw the movie The Deer Hunter and decided to do something to heal the wounds of a nation divided.   He thought a memorial might mend us.  The committee formed a distinguished panel to judge the entries, which numbered 1421 designs.  An 18 year old Asian-American coed from Yale University won.  This seemed incomprehensible, that an ethnic female college freshman would win.  Just to make sure the panel voted a second time.  She won again.  Congratulations Maya Lin.

 

You might remember the controversy surrounding the model when it was unveiled.  It was not at all like conventional war memorials, say with a statue depicting an idealized warrior or a freeze portraying a heroic war scene.  It was not heroic at all, complained the critics.  And, indeed, it is different.  As those of you who have seen it, either in Washington, D.C., or right here touring river city know.  How many of you have seen it?  Then you know.  It is simple and sparing in presentation.  It lists the name of every single American killed in Vietnam, over 58,000.  And every name is the same size as every other name, regardless of rank or heroics, which go unspoken.

 

Furthermore the names are not listed alphabetically, which created more controversy, but Ms. Lin argued convincingly to alphabetize was to dehumanize and bureaucratize.  She did not want a giant marble phone book as a memorial, once again discriminating against the X,Ys, and Zs.  No, the same sized names are listed according to the date on which they died, as if to say this day will always be associated with this person, never to be forgotten, but remembered as their personal saint day.

 

You know the rest of the story.  Though controversial in the beginning, people have

come to the memorial by the millions.  They stand in awe of the 58,196 names chiseled in marble.  They look up the names of relatives and friends, as I did two childhood chums.  We touch the names.  Some trace the names onto paper.  We stand in silence.  Every name is listed, none more, none less.

 

When they opened the memorial with a public ceremony, volunteers read the names of each person on the wall.  For two and one half days they read.  I like to think it served the artist's dream of being a healing balm for our nation.  Some people see the memorial as a sign of what war costs. Many individual lives.  And surely it does this.  But it does something more.  It is a reminder of our faith that every single life is precious in the eyes of the Creator.  Therefore, no one is forgotten.  Every name is recorded equally and permanently.

 

You see, something happened between the pyramids in Peru and the memorial in Washington.  What happened was the Judeo-Christian teaching about the sanctity of individual life, "a royal priesthood, God's own people," as Peter put it in his letter.  As far as God is concerned we are all God's children, without rank, everyone equal heirs to the Kingdom of God.

 

As the great Russian theater director, Stanislavsky, said, "There are no small roles, only small actors."  Which is what the Christian faith proclaimed 2,000 years ago, saying every life is precious, every life matter, every life has dignity.  This is what is so revolutionary about the Resurrection.  Not what it is as a miracle, but what it is as a message:  that each of us is heirs to the promise of eternal life, not for anything that we have done, or not done, but because of whom we are, children of God.  God knows us, as a parent knows a child.  God knows us by our name and promises to never leave us.  Which is what our sacrament of baptism is about.  In baptism we are named and claimed by God.  In the old time religion sense, our names are written in the Book of Life, so when our earthly trip concludes, God will receive us home again, calling us by name, every one of us, whether we are royalty or rogues.

 

In one of the television episodes of Mash a bombardier is brought in for treatment. He's gone over the edge and suffered an emotional breakdown.  Perfect for a Mash unit, eh?  Like many a lunatic, he thinks he is Jesus Christ.  The story focused on the reaction of the staff to this patient.  Some think he is faking it, an attempt to be discharged from duty.  Others believe he truly is mentally ill and in need of medical attention.  The latter viewpoint prevails, and in the end of the episode he is led to an ambulance to transport him to a better facility for further treatment. 

 

Radar O'Reilly has been observing all this.  He has noticed the bombardier's gentleness, his kindness and compassion.  He wonders, could this be?  As the officer approaches the ambulance, Radar goes up to him and says, "Captain Jesus, sir.  Before you go, could you give my friend a blessing."  With that, Radar reaches into his coat and pulls out his teddy bear.  "Sure," the pilot says and he blesses the teddy with a gentle gesture.  As he turns to enter the ambulance, Radar calls out again, "Jesus, sire, would you give me a blessing?"  "Sure, Radar," the bombardier replies, and he reaches out to touch Radar's head, when Radar stops him and says, "But, sir, my name is not Radar.  May name is Walter, sir.  Walter O'Reilly."  And the captain, whoever he is, blesses Radar by name.

 

Everyone has a name.  This is what our faith says.  It is no longer royalty alone who are buried with treasures in pyramids.  We are all chiseled into the Book of Life, like our fallen soldiers on the Vietnam memorial.  We are baptized royalty by our birth as God's children and made heirs to the Kingdom of God.  God knows us by name and blesses us with eternal life when the final roll is called.

 

This past year God has called many of your loved ones from our fellowship on earth, to join God in God's communion of saints.  13 of you have lost mother's alone.  I guess we are getting to be that age.  This morning on this All Saints' Day we have named them as God has claimed them, for praise God,

Everyone knows in their bones that something is eternal, and that something has to do with human beings.  All the greatest people that ever lived have been telling us for five thousand years:  there's something way down deep that's eternal about every human being.

 

AMEN