Bishop Arthur J. Serratelli

At every military funeral in the United States, the U.S. government dispatches a bugler. As the mourners hush into silence, he solemnly lifts his bugle and sounds Taps. This well-known, 24-note bugle call is actually a revision of a French bugle signal telling soldiers to stop their evening drinking and return to their barracks. Today, it is sounded at dusk at our military posts. The bugle’s plaintive voice announces lights out at the end of the day. How appropriate, therefore, that it is now used at funerals when the light of this life is extinguished by the darkness of death.

At the graveside of those who have served in our military service, the haunting and emotionally moving notes of Taps concludes the rites of our burial. The bugle call pierces the silent stillness of the bystanders and strikes deep within their hearts. Eyes tear. Memory recalls. And both gratitude and sorrow join hands in praise of those who fought for our freedom.

But the sad sounds of Taps are not the final note for those who have served in our military service or for those who have lived in service to others. All of us, living and dead, await the final trumpet that will raise the dead and unite us to the Lord and one another (1 Cor 15:52; 1 Th 4:16). Death will not have the final victory.

On Memorial Day, it is customary to visit our cemeteries and to honor those who have nobly sacrificed their lives so that we, as a people, might be free. Remembering those who have died in war reminds us of the costly price of peace. It also challenges us in times of peace not to forget that faith, family and freedom are worth the ultimate sacrifice.

On Memorial Day, we also honor all our beloved dead whose quiet lives of generosity and sacrifice make us value more readily our God-given freedoms. We decorate their graves with flowers to express our love for them. By their fresh beauty, these flowers remind us that death is not the end of the journey.

Death is never easy. And the greater the love, the deeper the sorrow we suffer when our loved ones are snatched from our midst by death. We long to be with them. On Memorial Day, we stand at their graves, holding dear their memory. And, with great hope, we pray for them that, freed from any stain of sin, they enjoy the reward of their good works.

Such prayers and hopes are not in vain. Christ himself has made the ultimate sacrifice for people of every time and place. On the cross, he contended with death and has risen triumphant as victor on the third day. Thus, the bonds of love that unite us in Christ on earth are not broken, but strengthened when our loved ones pass into God’s loving embrace.

Taps may sound the somber note that day is done. But, in faith, we know that there dawns a new day, putting to flight all darkness and filling us with a joy that never ends. Memorial Day, therefore, is not simply a day of gratitude for those who have gone before us, but a day of hope for what is yet to come.