This coming weekend we celebrate Memorial Day, a holiday which should be very special to all Americans. While instituting the Lord’s Supper, Jesus said, “This do in remembrance of Me.” Communion is a memorial. We remember Christ and what He did for us on the cross of Calvary. Memorial Day we remember those who served our country — protecting our freedom and faith, especially those who gave the ultimate sacrifice of their lives.
My wife and I remember the uncle she never knew, Uncle Donald, brother of my late father-in-law, Harold M. Jones. As a young man Donald was shot down over Germany in World War II and gave his life for us. My father and father-in-law both served in World War II, as did my uncle Roger.
I also remember my maternal grandfather, Carl F. Aten. He died at age 60 when I was just 6 years old. Grandpa Aten served in the famous “Rainbow Division” under then one-star Gen. Douglas MacArthur in World War I. The Rainbow Division was the U.S. force which went the furthest into Germany in World War I. My grandfather hated the fact he had to kill an enemy soldier. My mother told me that to some extent my grandfather never got over it. But his faith was strong. He led the Easter sunrise service at his church in Lorain, Ohio, until the day he died.