The point of it all.

On Monday this week we attended the Memorial Day ceremony at the Sonoma Veterans Memorial Park behind the Veterans’ Building. It was a lovely event, the 50th here in Sonoma, in a setting made even more lovely by Robert Behrens’ sculpture. We were moved to tears at several points, filled with pride at our nation, gratitude for those soldiers who had died in its service, and grief for the parents and families of those soldiers.
And just in the week before, we had occasion to attend two funeral services. Both of the men honored had lived full lives, bringing joy to many as they remained attentive to the needs of others. But they also left grieving families.
In truth, several of us are working on the second half of full lives – not that anyone would dare call us “middle-aged” – and these several memorial services brought to mind once more our own mortality. It makes us wonder, perhaps with growing urgency: just what is the point of it all?
A friend used to tell his kids, as they were growing up, “The point of life is to please your parents.” While that may sound corny, there’s actually merit to it, teaching as it does that the children should look beyond merely pleasing themselves. They don’t live in isolation – they live in a family and in a larger community with other people, and it is important for them at least to recognize how their words and actions impact those others. That succinct definition also has the benefit of focusing their attention on what others might need. While it doesn’t try to introduce the concept, for instance, of an obligation to help others less fortunate, it’s simple and provocative.
At one of the services, the priest talked about his hope that the man had achieved his goal of getting to heaven. As we pondered that thought, we realized from the many testimonies that neither man had seemed particularly worried about that, nor do we expect that was foremost in the minds of the soldiers, either. These people exemplified lives of service to others – they weren’t seeking personal glory, either now or in the hereafter. They lived out the Christian concept of grace, that salvation isn’t something to be earned; such people are already saved, and the works they do for others flow from that understanding, not as a means to buy salvation.
How can we live a life of service ourselves? We can try to emulate such people, being generous with our time, talents, and possessions, just as they were with theirs. Those who make a practice of serving others say that, ironically, they themselves end up being rewarded, feeling peaceful and satisfied in ways that they couldn’t have imagined before.
Rotary, the oldest and largest of the world’s service clubs, is founded on such a principle. Its motto is the lofty, “Service above self.” And other service clubs, Kiwanis and Lions among them, encourage similar practices.
Maybe our parents were right, after all: it is better to give than receive.
To Earl and Harry, and to our military heroes – may your peace be deep and everlasting.