This morning, I did something I had never done before. I headed over to Highland Burial Park to attend a special Memorial Day Service. Hosted by the Dorothea Henry Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution, this annual event was a time for remembering all of the 1.2 million Americans throughout our 230-plus year history that have died preserving and defending our freedoms on the field of battle. As one DAR speaker noted, “It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the agitator, who has given us the freedom to protest. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag.”I never served in the military. In fact, I’m part of a small group of American males that never even registered for selective service. You may or may not know it, but there was a brief five-year window in our history—between April 1, 1975 (3 days before my 18th birthday) and 1980, when draft registration was suspended altogether. This was, no doubt, a careless overreaction to the Vietnam War. After all, it’s one thing to suspend having an active peacetime draft. It’s quite another thing to not even have a registry of potential draftees should a national emergency suddenly arise. By 1980, our national leaders corrected this potentially dangerous oversight.
Although I never served in the military, I’ve always had the highest respect for those that have. Two of my great-great grand grandfathers—my Grandmother Davis’s two granddads—both served in the Civil War. One fought for the Union, the other for the Confederacy. I don’t know how often those two old vets crossed paths, but it sure must have been quite interesting at the wedding of their children! I somehow imagine the family of the bride seated on one side the church all dressed up in Yankee blue and the family of the groom on the other side all decked out in Rebel gray!
My grandfather was a veteran of World War I. In my home, I have on display the American flag that draped his coffin at his 1961 funeral as well as the letter from President John F. Kennedy to my grandmother memorializing his passing.My Uncle Paul fought in Europe during the Second World War. My father-in-law, Tom Early, served in the Pacific Theater of War, ultimately stationed with the American occupational forces that served in Japan following its surrender in 1945. Both of these men were part of what Tom Brokaw has dubbed “The Greatest Generation.” Typical of the quiet, stoic heroes of the era, neither spoke about the horrors of war they had witnessed as young men. (I often marvel at
that amazing generation of young Americans that—in the 1940s—valiantly rose up from their simple everyday lives as small town shopkeepers & simple farm boys to engage in a life & death global struggle for freedom. In the process, they stifled & defeated an evil Nazi war machine bent on worldwide conquest. Truly, we owe them more than we can ever repay!)When I was a teenager, my 20-something-year-old neighbor from just across the street had his life snuffed out by a sniper’s bullet in Vietnam. It was a sorrowful moment in my small hometown in Kentucky. Later on in life, when I became a father, my own son never served in the military, but a number of his peers did. And I remember how we prayed for & corresponded with one of Jordan’s very best friends—a Marine & a frequent guest in our home—when he went off to serve two tours of dangerous duty in Iraq.
A couple of years ago, a pastoral colleague of mine in Florida—Rev. Felix Ramirez—tragically lost
a son in Iraq. An immigrant from Mexico, who served as the pastor of a Hispanic congregation not far from my church, Pastor Felix was a proud & patriotic American. After his son was killed in combat, I wrote President Bush to share with him the story of the Ramirez family. Months later, Pastor Felix & his wife were invited by the White House to Arlington National Cemetery for a special Veteran’s Day ceremony whereby they met and were personally comforted by the president himself. Pastor Felix—proud of the sacrifice that his son made on behalf of freedom for the Iraqi people—continues to have a deep & abiding love for his adopted country.
Over the years as a pastor—both here and in other communities where I’ve served—I have stood & offered numerous words of condolence & remembrance over the flag-draped coffins of many a deceased veteran. Every time I conduct such a funeral, I think of the sacrifice they made for their country, and for the freedoms that you & I enjoy today. Freedoms that we must not take for granted.How does one appropriately commemorate Memorial Day? First, if possible, express your personal appreciation to a vet. Then, say a prayer of thanks to God for those generations of brave Americans that gave what Lincoln at Gettysburg called “the last full measure of devotion.” And, then, don’t forget to continue to pray for, support & encourage our soldiers serving on the front lines of battle today...in Iraq, Afghanistan & in other difficult outposts.
Sometimes, on Memorial Day, I’ve done something as simple as watching an inspiring, patriotic movie as a way to focus in on the meaning of the day. May I recommend two of my all-time favorites to you? Gettysburg, released in 1993, is an epic retelling of the dramatic story of the Civil War’s greatest battle. It is filled with many emotionally-riveting sequences of human drama and 
personal courage. And Sergeant York, a truly classic 1940 biopic starring Gary Cooper as real life American hero Sgt. Alvin C. York of Tennessee, a devout Christian & one of the most decorated soldiers of World War I. (My grandfather actually met Sgt. York.) Neither of these films will disappoint you. They represent American heroism at its best. Regardless of the means by which you choose to remember those that have served (& are serving) our country, the most important thing is that you do remember them. And be thankful for their sacrifice. Remember, you can eat hot dogs & apple pie, enjoy a baseball game, or go swimming with your kids or grandkids today, all because of someone else that can't.
Pastor Danny
Pastor Danny
