I receieved a frantic phone call on Friday: “The pastor who was suppose to pray on Monday had surgery for throat cancer. Do you know anyone who could come?” “Would they mind a woman?”, was my response, trying to be sensitive to expectations (and maybe hoping Jeff would go instead!).
I am glad I went. I’m not a fan of war (who is, really?) but it was moving to see these men gather to honor those who had died. It didn’t take much of an imagination to wonder what they had seen during their lives. One gentleman was on the front lines of four significant battles (Iwo Jima being one of them). Another gentleman carried the wreath as he gripped his crutches with his armpits. One of the other soldiers offered help but no doing. It was the least he could do, I suppose, for those who had made the “ultimate sacrifice.”
I wondered if some of my colleagues thought I was giving in too easily by agreeing to pray at such an occasion. Was I somehow giving creedance to violence and war? I don’t think so. It was an honor to give thanks for the lives of so many and I can’t imagine anyone was upset that I prayed for peace.
May it be so.
I think you were right to go, for sure.
The Veteran’s Day Dinner that the youth host at our church has been one of the most “sacred space” experiences in my ministry. Connecting the different generations to share stories over a meal leads to powerful sharing.
No matter your views on war (I suspect our views are similar), it is another thing altogether to honor those who were willing to sacrifice their own lives for the rest of us.
I echo Marci. And as the mother of two sons who are both soldiers – and officer and an enilisted man – who holds view on war similar to both you and Marci, I also pray for peace and safety for all the men and women I know who are presently serving.