On a small rise overlooking the lowlands and creeks that eventually feed into the Platte River bottom near Gower, Missouri is a small country church (the Mt. Zion Church). Behind this church is a cemetery filled with headstones to memorialize all the former parishioners, community members, and their families. Graves dating back from the early to mid-1800s to present represent people who once farmed, served their country, loved ones forgotten about, and even children whose lives were cut short way too young. While walking the rows of headstones this past March and while glancing upon names of family (by marriage) as well as just names of others including maybe a name or two that perhaps would catch my interest, there were two headstones that truly captivated me. Upon these old (around 100 plus years old) white headstones are names of children. Given that the headstones each have multiple names makes my suspect that these children died of fire, tornado, or sickness in order to take them out in one shot. Although it is sad to see names of children who never experienced life of an adolescent or teenager as well as to see multiple names upon each stone with the same death date, what also truly caught my attention were the small toys that adorned these headstones. The reason for the toys is partly in respect of these children who died. There is also a belief that the ghosts of the children who never accomplished their life’s purposes would at least come out to play with these toys. These were not ancient toys these children played with. The toys I saw were modern or semi-modern toys that are maybe a year or so old. The oldest toy could be at most 15 years old. And for the last nearly two months my brain has tried to figure out why these modern toys? I could understand antique toys, but not modern toys.
Although there are other events recorded in the Bible, I will focus on a singular event and that is the Passover that is recorded in Exodus 12. The children would ask in verse 26, “What do you mean by this service?” or in the BBE translation, “What is the reason of this act of worship?”. Thousands of years since, Jews all over the world continue to observe this Passover event in solemn respect. It is a holy day and a reminder of what God will do. And no matter the distance from the Holy Land, the advancements of technology, or other interests that keep our lives busy (and distracted), the Passover is still considered a sacred day of remembrance. For the Jew and others this day is something to be remembered and passed on from parent to child forever. Why? Because it is good to remember and to be reminded of God’s protection, God’s involvement, and for the eve of redemption or salvation of when the Jews left Egypt. For the Christian it is like celebrating and remembering how good and wonderful God is (and was back then) when whatever direction our lives were going and where God in a moment touched each and every one of us. Forgiven, changed, and redeemed.
But (going back to these headstones) what completely kept me baffled is how modern the toys were on these headstones. I remember a couple of years ago (I wrote about this event back then) of a mother who was deeply grieving of the loss of her son who died from Leukemia. He is buried at the Wheeling (Missouri) cemetery. And that night while my wife and I were at this same cemetery to pay respects to my grandparents, this mom laid a blanket out with a couple of toys beside her, and asked her (deceased) child, are you ready for mommy to tell you a story. So I can understand if the names and dates of these children (at the Mt. Zion Cemetery) were recent passings and so the mom or siblings of these children would leave keepsakes or toys for their children to play with or to honor these children because the pain is so near and deeply cutting. But the date (the best I can make out) is over 100 years ago. The mom and any living siblings would certainly have passed away decades ago.
And so let us assume some things. Let us assume this mom did indeed have at least one more child (older or younger doesn’t matter, but let’s just say for the sake of this thought this living sibling is/was older). Mom and child go to the cemetery and there is the fresh mound of Missouri clay reminding them of the loss of these dear children. The pain is extremely acute. A silent promise is made by the mom that she will always love them and she will never forget them. Years and maybe even decades pass with her annual pilgrimage. Perhaps on the anniversary of the passing of these children or maybe their birthdays she visits their grave and with maybe a small prayer, a few words, and then she leaves a toy. The living sibling (let’s say a daughter to the mom) who is now an adult and when she visits her mom may be reminded of the painful loss of these dead children.
The daughter agrees and promises to not forget her siblings. And although She is busy with her own family, career, and children, she agrees to the annual task to continue to honor her mom’s wishes to visit this cemetery and at least leave a toy at the headstone. And so on the marked date/s, the daughter goes to the Mt. Zion Cemetery in the middle of nowhere farmland of Missouri to leave a toy. Perhaps fixes or affixes previous toys adorned on this headstone blown off by wind or maybe slid off by rain and snow. She becomes older and her own children ask, what do you mean by this? And eventually she, too, passes on the story. The pain for the loss of these small children may not be as acute as it was for the mother, but still just as real. She makes them aware and promise that every year (if possible) she visits and adorns the headstone with another toy. Eventually a promise is made by her child or children to continue this. And so for the past 100 plus years with some toys broken by weather and vandalism are replaced with newer toys, a promise continues to be passed on to the living child/children who will continue to do this loving moment. Perhaps the story of the loss of these children are told and retold, but the pain for the absence of these children is not there. And the promise perhaps becomes less of devotion and one of duty or task.
With success, busy lives, these annual cemetery pilgrimages give way to other priorities, absence of finances, sickness. Skipping a year occurs because after all great, great grandma doesn’t know if a year or two are skipped to visit the cemetery and lovingly remember these children and to leave a token. And after all, the initial promise was made back then and it is (partly) selfish to expect that promise to be fulfilled perpetually with the same passion or intensity. After all, what should motivate someone generations long ago for future generations to keep visiting this cemetery on a small rise and miles from the nearest town let alone a city to leave a new toy, remove an old or damaged one, and reaffix those toys not secured on the headstone? The children are dead so they don’t care. This is a cemetery, and any living family are all dead by now so it doesn’t matter or would be verified if the promise was kept. Even if the act is done, will it have any meaning and importance, or have the nice toys given way to cheap Dollar Tree toys with an attitude “waste of money and glad that waste of time is over”? All there is is a promise made by a succeeding generation to continue this routine to visit and leave a toy.
And the same can happen to many of us. It didn’t take long after the exodus and the children of Israel forgot about the sovereignty of God who will bless those who honor Him and curse/judge those who forsake or dishonor Him. We Christians who experienced a real conversion experience where our lives were absent of God or our religion was tradition or arm’s-length belief can recall our date of salvation. For some of us it may had been a powerful moment—a revival, truly feeling clean, healed and forgiven, etc.—while others it was a prayer that led to additional prayers while layers of sin and disobedience had to be shed off in the salvation process of God. Later perhaps we become blessed to have a child or children who grew up to never know the taste of the alcohol or the poison of drugs that once plagued our lives; perhaps to never know how close we were with the razor or gun in our hand to take our life; or how lost and lonely we were with no one who could heal the hurt and rejection that plagued our lives. Not saying that these children are completely immune from all temptations or struggles, but they are hedged from knowing the sting of poor choices made as well as generational curses of alcoholism, drug abuse, violence, divorce, etc. We in our generation who left sin remember choices made, trails blazed, and sacrifices and promises made. We can remember the crack of the whip, the painful stings of sin on our back, and the scars to show for it. The hope of us parents is that we did a good enough job to teach our kids by serving as a godly example. But in reality, every person including our children will have to have their own God-moment. And in that God-moment we (and they) will know that they know that they know who God is; that God truly became really real in our/their lives.
But do things get passed on? Are there days of remembrance set aside in the Christian life to pass on the Word and promises made with the admonition to always remember God (not just a name or some poetic verses on a wall)? Will our children know that Jesus is/was truly real in our lives outside of church service? Do they see us pray at home? Do they hear us talk about God outside of church and in a good way and not a complaint? Do they see us read the Word of God whom we say we follow? Do they see us apologize and/or repent? Do they see us give beyond just seeing an app opened or an envelope dropped in the plate? Do they see us live out the Bible with others in our community, even if we find ourselves thousands of miles from the eyes of our church to hold us in account?
The next time I visit this little church, I would like to use a pencil and a piece of paper to shade the names and dates from these headstones to then see if there are any newspaper stories about the passing of these children. It would also be interesting to one day, even if by accident while visiting the cemetery, know who still visits these stones to leave these toys and what motivates this person to fulfill this promise. To know from the current generation, why remember? May our children, just like the promise made between that mother to her child/children, never have to ask us “why remember” or “what does this worship mean” about God. May they remember but have that same zeal and acute knowledge for Jesus as we have…maybe even more intense. What does it mean to you?