Remember This

I Peter 1:3-9

Remembrance Sunday, November 8, 2026

Holy Trinity Cathedral

“Remember This”

This week I had an inquiry from a family member of former parishioners at Holy Trinity Cathedral.  She wondered what had happened to a chair that had been dedicated to a young Royal Canadian Air Force pilot who had served in the second World War. In the chancel, where our server is seated is that very chair. The inscription carved on it reads, “In memory of W.A.B. Stokes, R.C.A.F., killed in action June 11, 1943, aged 24.” It was donated by his parents after the war so that they had a tangible reminder of his life and sacrifice as they came week by week for comfort and strength with their community of faith. 

Eighty-three years have passed since William’s death, and we remember him today.  Generations have passed since the event, but the stories are commemorated in the story handed on to us.  It is still part of our living hope that all the faithful will be brought together again on the last day.  This is the message that the writer of the First Letter of Peter is also proclaiming to us. Our God is the God of the living and not the dead.  All who have hope in the resurrection of Jesus Christ will find an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading.  As we remember, we are re-rooted in this truth.

The writer calls himself Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ.  Since the letter was written between 70 and 90 A.D., it probably wasn’t the disciple Simon Peter who scribed it; a couple of generations had passed since the events of the resurrection.  But these are the words of someone writing from the Roman Christian community that Peter is associated with, reaching out to other churches in the area to reassure them.  The gist of the letter is for Christian converts not to abandon the world, or to turn their backs on the needs of the wider culture.  Instead, we are to live as critical and responsible citizens, using gospel values to engage in society.  Our words and deeds matter.  The emphasis is not on Jesus returning soon to rescue believers from the world, but rather on the presence of the risen Christ as a constant companion and guide in times of trial.  Because we are born into this new hope, we do not need to fear death or separation. We can know this now, even if all has not been revealed.

We live in two systems at the same time.  One is the tangible or material world.  We are embodied selves.  We see and hear and touch and smell and taste.  We love those who are dear to us and want to be near them.  We delight in the beauty and joys on earth, and sorrow at the pain and hatred that surround us.  While we are mortal, we long to reach out and touch other bodies, grieving when they are no more.  And so we create ways to make them present to us, through pictures and memorials, objects that carry a reminder of their stories. And yet, we also live into the spiritual realm that is the kingdom of heaven. In Christ we find a sense of home that can be accessed anywhere, anytime.  And in Christ the past and the present meet and become one, so that what was lives anew.  This sense of past being made present is called ‘anamnesis’.  It is the opposite of ‘amnesia’ or forgetting. When we are brought to anamnesis, God opens and grounds us in the kingdom.  We experience what the writer of First Peter calls “an indescribable and glorious joy” (1 Peter 1:8).  We remember, and we are re-membered.

Remembrance is not just an acknowledgement that something happened in the past, or even experiencing yet again the old emotions that bringing the thought to mind causes. It is an act of making whole: of making the past part of our present story.  We embrace the spiritual vision that helps guide our paths together towards the time when all things will be made new again, and we reach that city of light where God dwells with all God’s sons and daughters.  We can re-member and reclaim all those who have died before us because we are grounded in Christ’s love together.  Each person has a place in the story with us, and together we are part of the saga of the communion of saints.

We experience this every Sunday in the sacrament of the eucharist. At the table, as the bread and the wine are taken, blessed, broken, and shared, we hear Jesus’ words, “do this to remember me.”  By taking part in communion, we are again made members of Christ’s body.  We allow God to re-member us as we remember what Christ sacrificed.  It is an ongoing work of salvation.  Eucharist is not an observation of what happened nearly two thousand years ago, but a reality present with us today.  In it, we “are receiving the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls” (1 Peter 1:9).   We participate in an act that declares the healing of the world, indeed the peaceful reconciliation of all the nations, lies in God’s pierced hands. We do it in the face of all that systems of evil can attempt to thwart God’s purpose, for we have faith in the outcome.

Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen, our Scriptures reminds us. It is what helps us recognize that everyday things, like bread and wine, carry a tangible sign of the kingdom. It is what helps us see that the lives of those who are no longer in this physical world are not lost, but part of the precious company of saints in heaven who share a table with us.  And when we are confused and dismayed by the trials of this earthly existence, communion is a prophetic and revolutionary act that labels us as those who have a living hope.  When we gather, we remember this: on the last day we will be raised up into new life. Amen.