It’s Memorial Day, the day we take time each year to remember and honor the heroes who gave the ultimate sacrifice, so we may enjoy so many amazing freedoms. Having visited a number of countries where the civil liberties most Americans take for granted are non-existent, and having seen the impact of not being able to gather public to worship, or to have a part in electing the leaders who govern, or to have ample supplies of food, housing, and other necessities of life, Memorial Day means more to me than it did as a child. Then it was just a day off school, a time to get out the boat for the first time, and have a picnic. Now, I’m reminded thousands and thousands of men and women from the 1700’s to our current day have given their lives as part of the United States Military in order that we might enjoy such experiences.
When I think of Memorial Day, I always think of one of my Mother’s cousins, whose name was Joe. Joe served in the army during the Viet Nam era. I remember seeing him after he had served his third tour of duty there. During his second tour, the jeep his was riding in had been hit by some type of bomb. The impact of the experience was visible when Joe wore a short sleeved shirt–there were “craters” in his arms where muscle had been ripped away by the shrapnel. Joe’s hearing was impaired greatly by the concussion of the bomb. In truth, Joe ought to have left the army with a military discharge after his recovery. But Joe convinced an army doctor that he was fit to serve one more tour. Joe wanted to go back, because he believed in what we were doing, believed in providing freedom not only for Americans, but for as many others as we could.
You may disagree with the purpose of the Viet Nam conflict. You may believe we ought never have been there. What you cannot do, is disagree with the degree of commitment and sacrifice of men and women such as Joe, who have given their service and their lives for us, for their fellow Americans, who they believed had the right to disagree with what they were doing, and were willing to die to maintain that right. As followers of Jesus, we may fall at any point along the spectrum from pacifists to militarists, but wherever we fall on the spectrum, I hope we understand love and commitment. If you’re prone to cynicism and you’re thinking, “Many of those people who died were there because they were drafted, or because they volunteered, and it was just a job for them.”
The thought holds truth, but even those who were drafted or who volunteered for a job, who died in action still gave their lives rather than run away from the obligation. I find that honorable and commendable. That’s why I welcomed the opportunity to say something about those who served during our worship services this weekend, and to offer a prayer of gratitude to God. It’s why I was glad to pause for a moment of silence at last night’s Pittsburgh Pirates game, when the announcer encouraged us to do so, and then to sing God Bless America. I recognize my first citizenship is in heaven, but as the New Testament reminds us many times we are to obey the governing authorities. My secondary citizenship as a citizen of the United States of America is a blessing that provides many opportunities the citizens of other nations only dream of having.
I hope you, too, have taken or will take a moment to remember those who served and gave their lives that we may have the freedom to express our opinions on anything and everything. God’s blessings on those whose families live with the loss of loved ones who gave the ultimate sacrifice for us.
Here’s to leading better by taking time pause and thank God for those who make it possible for us to live and serve Him freely–today!