Spent Shell

Flower petals fluttered in the breeze on a brisk day in May. The time since has not dulled the memory of those moments. Taps rang out from a bugle in the hand of a tall Marine on a nearby hill. The melancholy notes uttered volumes as we laid to rest the body of Jack Wayne Murphy, my friend and brother in the Lord. An aged veteran recited dear words that added to the message of the bugler. A twenty-one gun salute wrote a holy ellipsis at the end of the book of a precious life.

While some may not immediately recognize the term ellipsis, we all know what one is. It’s the three little dots that say there is more than what is seen on the page... On that pristine day, seven Marine rifles fired as one to mark the first dot. Again the solemn barrels shouted in unison, and finally a third and final shot pierced the sky. Twenty one spent shell casings lay fallen upon the flagstone and in the grass near the walk.

Someone thought to gather up the spent shells. I think one was placed into the diligently folded American flag that was carefully presented to the grieving widow. Others were given to the teary-eyed children and relatives. As the minister, one was bestowed upon me.

I weep as I hold the spent shell. That casing is a lot like the body that we deposited into the earth that day; it once held a bullet that was released into the sky. Likewise the buried body once held a man—a husband, a dad, a Marine, a Christian brother. The body once held a soul that has now been released into Heaven.

When I hold that spent shell, I remember how the body of Jack Murphy was ravaged by disease in the process of releasing his soul to God. In the same way, the process of releasing the bullet from its shell was a torrent that bent metal and propelled the bullet from its former place of dwelling unto its noble, ultimate purpose. Just as the expending of a bullet is not its end, so also death is not the end of a man. The spent shell is not the bullet. It is only a remainder, and a reminder, of where the bullet once was...

I recently wrote a novel that was dedicated to my departed friend. My dedication said,

For God’s finest Marine, Jack Murphy Sr, a precious soul who showed us all how to live for Jesus Christ in the midst of the worst adversities that this sin-cursed world can deal out to a mortal body. In a vision, yours was the very first heavenly face I ever saw. It was the single most beautiful sight I ever beheld. See you soon, friend. Semper Fi!