“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness. It was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” This opening line of Charles Dickens’ 1859 historical fiction A Tale of Two Cities takes place during the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror. In the final scene of the book, Sydney Carlton, the selfless hero, switches places with the jailed Charles Darnay, a French nobleman sentenced to be executed. The book’s final sentence ends: “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” I read Dicken’s book in college and was awed at Carlton’s self-sacrificing love during a period of civil war.
I was born shortly before the United States became militarily involved in Vietnam. By the time I was in elementary school, the nightly news was full of pictures of guerrilla warfare and maps of embattled Vietnamese cities. Each week, the Pentagon posted the US and Vietnamese soldiers killed during the conflict. I remember playing with plastic toy soldiers. The terror, pain, and death were not part of my war playtime.
In high school, I wore a stainless-steel bracelet engraved with the name of a missing-in-action (MIA) soldier. I wrote his parents who lived in a nearby town and his mother responded with a kind letter. I did not carry the sacrifice that she bore, except for a thin piece of metal strapped to my wrist.
I helped a single mother in my neighborhood with her children when she was sick. Her oldest son volunteered for Vietnam, and she was so worried about him that she became physically and mentally ill. I witnessed his jubilant homecoming after serving a year in Vietnam. He gave me $20 for helping his mother and thanked me for my service. Compared to his personal risks as a paratrooper, I should have given him my earnings.
I grew up during a period when the country was divided about the military. Many of those who served in Vietnam did not want to participate. Most who were drafted served, despite their personal misgivings. The country was divided then, just as it is now. 1968 was a chaotic year of violence, both in Vietnam and the US. There were no community homecomings celebrations for the military. Only recently have the Vietnam veterans been honored for their sacrifices. Time heals old wounds, but never fully.
My nephew plays the trumpet in the US Army quintet based in Washington DC. He has played taps at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier during Memorial Day services. His trumpet playing gift brings tears to those who remember the sacrifices of friends, family, and communities. One must look over Arlington Cemetery and see the thousands of graves to fully understand the selfless sacrifice of those buried beneath.
I visited the US cemetery at Normandy (France) when we lived in Europe. Over 7,000 are buried there. It is a quiet place of green grass lined with white stone grave markers. An American guide took our group to several graves and showed us pictures of the young servicemen buried beneath our feet. She had permission from their families to discuss their lives prior to being killed in action. It brought home the self-sacrifice of those who left America and never returned home.
I don’t like war and those who served in combat don’t like it either. War doesn’t dissipate after returning home; just look at the PTSD statistics and the number of wounded veterans. My father’s generation kept silent after their combat experiences. Today. we openly discuss it which is far healthier. Perhaps our openness will cause governments to pause before starting conflicts.
Last Sunday was Memorial Day Sunday. It was also Trinity Sunday and the second Sunday after Pentecost. The sermon Scripture was Joshua 4, the erecting of the twelve stone memorial to the Israelites crossing the Jordan River into the promised land. This peaceful crossing turned into the bloody conquest of Canaan which continues today in modern Israel. Joshua is rarely used as sermon text because it contrasts with Jeses’ peaceful message of grace and reconciliation. It traces Biblical battles that leave many Christians uncomfortable.
When I read A Tale of Two Cities, it reminded me of Jesus’ self-sacrifice for human sin. The book’s opening sentence is still relevant today as it was during Jesus’ time of Roman occupation. Rome used military conquest to subdue nations to usher in the Pax Romana. Jesus used nonviolence to usher in the Kingdom. Memorial Day pays tribute to self-sacrifice that ushers in freedom for the living. May we all remember to do the “better thing” before we have our “better rest.” Thanks be to God for those who self-sacrifice.
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