That the Fierce Might of our Enemies may be Brought Low...

25th May, 2009 ~ Memorial Day in the United States of America

Today I attended and took part in the annual Memorial Day Mass offered on the grounds of our city's Catholic Cemetery. Our bishop, The Most Rev. David Lauren Ricken, was the sole celebrant. Having unexpectedly come into his presence a few minutes before the Mass, I had chatted with him briefly about my plan to track down my great-great grandfather's grave--in that very cemetery--later in the day.

Great-great Grandpa Murphy; Denis J. F. Murphy; received the Congressional Medal of Honor on January 22, 1892 in recognition of his bravery in an engagement with Confederate forces at Corinth, Mississippi, on October 3rd, 1862. That day, as he bore the flag in battle, he was wounded 3 times--which added to a wound suffered a day or so earlier--and yet "valiantly bore the colors throughout the conflict." He was one of 4 soldiers to be so honored for their actions at Corinth that day and the day following.

Bp. Ricken, in his homily, was kind enough to say "I found out this morning that there are even veterans of the Civil War buried here..." Although I never could have known him, I am quite certain that Sergeant Denis J. F. Murphy smiled at the bishop's notice.

There were several hundred people at Mass; some familiar to me, most not. I noticed a prominent, local, pro-choice "catholic" politician seated with his wife. I made a point of not noticing whether or not he received Communion from the "extraordinary minister" assigned to his section.

Although I normally resist the temptation to look around during Communion, today I granted myself a dispensation. I purposely looked at the easy-to-spot VFW members who were present. One such gentleman very carefully made his way to Communion, pausing now and then --either to regain balance, or because walking was painful--as he approached the blessed sacrament. I heard another fellow, who looked to be of the same vintage whisper to a friend "86 years old," as he pointed at the gentleman I was watching.

As he received our Blessed Lord in Communion, and devoutly Crossed himself and slowly headed back to his seat, head bowed, I whispered --almost audibly-- "greater love hath no man than this..."

You see, this fellow knew what it meant to lay his life down. He did so time and time again during his time of service. For some reason, known only at present to God, his laid-down life was not taken from him; but make no mistake, he laid it down.

I thought of my great-great grandfather again, and I choked up, my eyes blurring a bit with tears.

How much we owe to those who laid down their lives for the freedoms we now enjoy? And what debt beyond measure do they ask of us?

It came to me, as I considered these matters in silent meditation, that we owe them the debt of preserving for ourselves and our posterity, that freedom -- and those noble, Christian ideals-- for which these brave men laid down their lives.

I smiled, and nearly chuckled just a bit, as I realized that this 86 year old WWII veteran, and my great-great grandfather -- gone now just shy of 108 years -- are brothers in sacrifice: Both faithful, Catholic Men, who did their duty as clearly they saw it, and followed their Lord in laying down their lives for others.

"O God, who bringest wars to nought and shieldest by Thy power all who hope in Thee, overthrowing those that assail them; help Thy servants who implore Thy mercy; so that the fierce might of their enemies may be brought low, and we may never cease to praise and thank Thee. Through our Lord..." (collect: Votive Mass in Time of War)