I went to a church service with Kev today for the first time since last Christmas/ New Year. Kev currently classifies himself as "almost an agnostic" and saves church for special occasions. One of my sons is also agnostic, the other is a passionate atheist whose bookshelf boasts a number of works by Dawkins and Hitchens.
Twelve years ago, when we moved to this area, things were very different. The boys both attended a faith school and we worshipped as a whole family every Sunday. I remembered this today because the church we went to was the one we all attended back in those days, Kev maintains some links with it and he is still responsible for sending out cards to the next of kin at funerals. He used to offer a "listening service" for anyone who would welcome contact with a church member following bereavement.
Because of this, the vicar asks him every year to attend the memorial service and to read out the names of those whose funerals have taken place at the church during the last year. I know Kev values this role, the service draws to the church many who are not regular attenders but who wish to remember, pay tribute to, possibly pray for loved ones who have died.
I often go along, as much as anything to support Kev, who has been very closely touched by bereavement in his life and can find such services difficult as well as meaningful. The service was moving, with the hymns, readings, candles and so many people visibly affected. It made me think of the importance of remembering the past and remembering the dead, whether lost through war or other circumstances, but also the importance of valuing the life and love that we have here and now, and not taking it for granted.