Monday will be more than a picnic. I find it strange that over time we tend to forget the meaning behind the event. Memorial Day is no different than other days that have been set aside for remembrance. If we are not careful it too will fall in a long line of holidays celebrated only because we have been given permission to take the day off. I will enjoy next Monday because stats class is cancelled. I always look for a reason to leave numbers and formulas alone for a day. That being said, let us look at the motive behind Memorial Day. The first Memorial Day was on May 1, 1865 at the close of the Civil War. I found two documents that stated the origin was in Charleston, South Carolina. Memorial Day was originally called Decoration Day. It was a day when the graves of fallen soldiers were decorated in honor of giving their lives for the freedom of others. However, there is a discrepancy in what happened to a certain grave. I am not sure if the grave was exhumed or simply decorated. But I know it was honored. This is one report as quoted by James DeWolf Perry, “Memorial Day was started by former slaves on May, 1, 1865, in Charleston, S.C., to honor 257 dead Union soldiers who had been buried in a mass grave in an upscale race track converted into a Confederate prison camp. They dug up the bodies and worked for two weeks to give them a proper burial as gratitude for fighting for their freedom. They then held a parade of 10,000 people led by 3,000 black children, where they marched, sang and celebrated.” They continued their work building cemetery architecture around the graves. So much honor shown for their freedom; so much love. The New York Tribune recorded it as “a procession of friends and mourners as South Carolina and the United States never saw before.” I wonder if we have seen it since. A lot of young men and women have sacrificed for our freedom. I bet you know someone. There have been so many wars. There will always be war; we have so many to honor. As I read the articles I was reminded of a time in Holy Scripture when enslaved children of Israel were set free. 400 hundred years of Egyptian rule had been cruel to these people. They had been beaten and starved and executed. At one point their baby sons were thrown into the Nile River. Their hearts ached for liberty, for relief from their suffering and they cried to God. God heard the voice of His children and led them to freedom through the work of Moses and Aaron and later Joshua. (Joshua means “Jehovah is my salvation.” Did you know Joshua also translates to Jesus? We will talk about the saving grace of Jehovah/Jesus in a moment.) As the children of Israel left the land of their enemy, they were given great wealth. Gold and silver and tapestries; more than they could carry were given to them by the very ones that held them in captivity. God not only broke the yoke of bondage but the yoke of poverty, too. These people crossed the Red Sea carrying their wealth with them and they crossed it on dry land. God can change the order of the universe to set you free. As they stepped into their freedom, their enemy was destroyed and Moses gave thanks. Miriam, his sister, led a chorus of praise. If the New York Tribune had been around it might have recorded it like this, “a procession of friends and mourners as Israel and Egypt never saw before.” I wonder if we have seen it since. Wars continue: there is so much bondage, so many to be set free and so many have died fighting for the freedom. Sometime in history between the captivity of Israel and the captivity of African Americans (and before and after each) was a leader of a band of rebels who fought to free the captivity of the souls of men. Many thought they had lost the battle. Their leader had been murdered and his dead body placed so all could see it until his friends found a borrowed grave. They were allowed to have a quick burial. Then fear hit the hearts of his followers and their families. Soldiers filled the streets in search of anyone connected with this group. The rebels hid in their homes and in the mountains. They talked quietly among each other about their fear and the loss of their leader, their friend. Then it happened, they saw him, their leader had returned, he had broken free from the grave. He broke the bonds of death. He did not lose the battle but won the ultimate victory. The hushed whisper of His followers began to grow into a song of victory. At first it too was quiet like the beginnings of an orchestra drawing an audience in to its melody. The longer the performance of an orchestra the greater the adding of instruments. With each instrument the intensity of the melody grows until, like the voices of the children of South Carolina and the voices of children of Israel, the voices of the saints rang with clarity of freedom. The freedom of the soul can sing louder than any matched orchestra because it is a freedom in God. As we read in the Book of John 8:34-36 (NKJV) Jesus answered them, “Most assuredly, I say to you, whoever commits sin is a slave of sin. And a slave does not abide in the house forever, but a son abides forever. Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed.” Today we find our spiritual freedom in Jesus our Lord who died for us. Let us honor Him today and every day. Let us also honor His band of country boy rebels who continued to fight for His truth. If you have accepted Him as your savior sing your songs of victory. If not, then simply close your eyes, and pray, acknowledge Him, ask Him to guide you. He is faithful, He will meet you where you are, even if you are at a picnic. He instituted picnics. As far as a Memorial Day Picnic, enjoy yours and be safe with your family. Thank God for your freedom and those who paid the price for it. I may go watch a sunset on the Gulf Shores in honor of my dad. Dad taught me faith on the shores of Cedar Island. He was a veteran, he fought for my physical freedom and he prayed for my spiritual sovereignty too. He also introduced me to the beauty of the sunset. We used to watch the sun kiss the shimmering waters, then we would be swallowed up in a tapestry of color. Maybe this Memorial Day as I watch the setting sun dance on the waters of the Gulf of Mexico I will hear the voices of liberty singing in the rhythm of the waves. This Memorial Day I will remember my dad and I will listen for the voice of my Father. God bless you all and today be free in Him. Pastor Cherryl