Reluctant Soldiers

Americans celebrate the last Monday in May as “Memorial Day.” It is a time to remember the men and women who defended our nation’s freedom, sometimes dying for that freedom.  This essay attempts to recall those who were “reluctant” soldiers.

On a recent trip through Kansas, along Interstate 70, I drove past Fort Riley.  Established in 1853, Fort Riley played an important role in American military history.  It was a principal training center for the cavalry during the days of the Indian wars—George A. Custer was stationed there for a while.  It became the home of the US First Infantry Division, was occasionally the home of the “Buffalo soldiers,” the all African-American 9^th and 10^th Calvary units; and continues to be an important site for training US Army personnel.

But, for me, Fort Riley’s history was not as significant as the fort’s place in my father’s stories of his experience as a soldier in World War II.  My father was about thirty when Pearl Harbor was attacked; he was drafted a year or so later.  (I recall a story suggesting his entering the military was deferred because he was worked in a critical industry—steel-making.)  His basic training was at Fort Riley.  He was eventually deployed to the Pacific; after a brief stay in Australia, his unit headed to New Guinea and the Philippines. 

My father told few stories of his army days.  Most of those concerned what happened at Fort Riley and the people he met there.  His story of a training maneuver in which he spent a bitterly cold night sleeping in the loft of a barn seemed ironic in view of his deployment in the tropics.  In telling these stories, he often wondered aloud if the friends he had made there returned home from the war.

His discharge papers listed him as a “small arms mechanic” but that may have been only one of many jobs he did.  My mother once said he had been a baker but, today, I wonder if that was something he told her to keep her from worrying. 

He never told about battles or shooting at the enemy.  Only after his death, did I learn he had participated in two amphibious assaults. 

You see, my father was a reluctant soldier.  Yes, he knew the nation had to defend itself but he was not a “natural-born killer” and refused to be made into one. 

At the same time, he didn’t want to leave his home or his pregnant wife.  He did not want to be halfway around the world when his son was born but he was.  Though he knew his duty as a soldier, he was awash with guilt that he wasn’t with his wife when that son, aged eighteen months, died from pneumonia.  Perhaps my father was reluctant to tell “war stories” because those stories inevitably brought back those memories.

My father was not the only reluctant soldier in the war.  In fact, historians tell us such soldiers have probably served in most American wars, including the Civil War.  Those who study such things tell us that the kill-rate in the battles of those wars should have been much higher.  Their conclusion?  American riflemen were deliberately missing the enemy.  These soldiers would only shoot to kill when left with no other choice.

Historians and sociologists opine this reluctance reflects a natural human reluctance to kill our own kind.  Perhaps, but I would think this explanation would be valid only if the reluctance were universal in every culture.  Doubtless, I am biased (or naïve) but I can’t help but wonder if the reluctance to kill the enemy might suggest the influence of a Christian worldview that sees individuals as created in God’s image, men and women for whom Christ died.  (Yes, I know America’s pervasive racism seems to militate against this notion but, acknowledging that, the Christian worldview had considerable influence in our nation’s life.)

My father was not a believer during the war—he trusted Christ years later.  Still, as my father grew up in his small Ozark hometown, he probably heard the sixth commandment, “Thou shalt not kill,” repeated again and again.  Of course, few Americans in those days could have escaped the influence of the Christian worldview.  While I’ve never believed America was a “Christian nation,” like some radio pundits like to claim, there’s little doubt the Christian ethos once had greater impact on behavior and attitudes.

To counter the reluctance to kill, the military has attempted to desensitize its recruits.  Whether they have been successful remains to be seen.  That they have sometimes been too successful is evidenced in headlines and news stories that leave us stunned.

That our culture is changing is also evident.  In the Midwestern city where I live, hardly a week goes by without the report of murders—inspired by greed, pride, or anger.  Have we forgotten the value of human life?  Is it because the Christian worldview is losing its influence? This is not the place to debate the matter.

This Memorial Day weekend we will hear about the courageous men and women who helped preserve our freedoms.  This is right and proper.  But, as we honor them, let’s remember that many of these soldiers did their duty reluctantly and once the war was over, often, wanted nothing more than to forget those days as soon as possible.  This doesn’t make them less patriotic or courageous, but it reminds us of their fundamental humanity.  They wanted to be remembered for something other than their ability to kill.

On Keeping a Civil Tongue

I wrote this a few years ago to deal with what I saw as a problem for some American Chrisitans—both those who might be described as either liberal or conservative.  I fear it contains some reminders we might soon need again.

On Keeping a Civil Tongue

Last week the President of the United States accused of lying.

Now I don’t have to tell you that this was not the first time a president has been called a liar.  In fact, I suspect every American president was called a liar at one time or another.  Except, perhaps, William Harrison but he died only a month after his inauguration. Of course, in his two hour Inaugural address—given bare-headed and coatless in the freezing cold—he promised to limit the power of the presidency, to not seek a second term, and to let congress deal with money matters.   So, if he hadn’t caught the cold that day that would kill him a month later, President Harrison would have probably been called a liar eventually.

What made this most recent event so unique was the venue.  The president as he spoke in a joint session of Congress being televised to the whole nation and beyond.  The accuser was a congressman who shouted out his allegation like a heckler in a nightclub. 

Now, the congressman has since apologized.  That’s good.  I draw your attention to the event because I think it illustrates a disturbing trend in our culture.  We are losing our sense of civility.  We’ve watched this happen for some time.  We’ve seen enough examples of incivility that probably few people were surprised it finally reared itself in such a public setting. 

I think there are a number of reasons why this is happening.

1.  We have bad role models. 

Individuals held up for praise in a culture that enjoys the “gotcha” moment are usually the go-for-the-jugular types.  We hear them on talk radio or see them on morning TV.  They are men and women.  Politically they are on the left and right.  They seem successful in getting their points across and we want to copy them.

2.  Many of us have a sense of frustration.

Many feel voiceless, that the ‘powers that be’ just won’t listen.  We were raised with that Norman Rockwell picture of the ordinary man speaking at the town meeting.  But when we go to that town meeting we hear, “Sorry but we don’t have room for you on the agenda.”  No wonder people find themselves shouting and waving fists.

3.  Some incivility must grow out of a sense of superiority.

When we feel we are better than others we give ourselves permission to tread them with disdain,  to be rude and caustic in speaking to them. 

4.  Some incivility grows out of a sense of being undervalued.

This is the opposite of the last situation.  If you feel people don’t take you seriously, you strike back. 

I don’t claim this is a scientific analysis of how incivility grows but I do know that the more we fail to demonstrate civility toward one another, the harder it is to communicate with one another.  That’s true whether we’re talking about the political arena, the workplace, the home, or the church.  Incivility is not simply a social issue;   it is a spiritual issue.  It is a spiritual issue because it affects the quality of our fellowship and the impact of our witness.

I want to spend a few moments looking at Paul who was a model of civility in the midst of a hostile culture.  He embodied the principle he set out in his letter to the Ephsians:  Speak the truth in love.  Think of this as a call to civility.

Before we move on let me make clear what civility isn’t.

1.  Civility is not allowing opponents to run roughshod over you, trampling your rights.

In recent years, some well-meaning Christian writers have suggested that Christians have no rights.  According to them, we should accept whatever our opponents dish out.   After all, Jesus was mistreated too. 

Being willing to suffer for Christ, if that should be in the providence of God, does not require us to surrender our opportunities to speak or act when we can.  Standing up for your right to speak for your side on an issue is not an unchristian act.  It is embracing what, in the providence of God, is your right in our culture.

2.   Civility is not remaining silent in the face of  error.

Silence in that situation may be perceived as agreement. 

When Paul calls us to “speak the truth in love” getting the truth out is essential.   But truth is spoken lovelessly often isn’t heard.  In his commentary on Ephesians, Blaike says, “… truth must be inseparably married to love; good tidings spoken harshly are not good tidings. The charm of the message is destroyed by the discordant spirit of the messenger.^{ “[1]}   Civility has not so much to do with the content of what we say as our mode of saying it.

Civility Modeled

The man who calls us to speak the truth in love modeled this civility.

In Acts 17, we see Paul in Athens.  He is on his own because Silas and Timothy are away at churches the team had helped start elsewhere.  As usual, Paul preached in the synagogues and took his message to the streets.  All the while he was observing the culture of Athens.  He got to know the people he hoped to influence. 

Civility recognizes the importance of treating people with respect, all people.  Paul tried to understand the Athenians and get a sense of their values.  It would pay off.

Then, too, civility recognizes that some occasion may be better than others for speaking.  As a rabbi, he could speak freely at the synagogues.  Since Greece was full of traveling teachers, Paul could take his place on a street corner and proclaim his message just like they did.  But if Paul wanted to speak to the intellectually elite in this city of philosophers, he would have to wait.

He didn’t barge onto their turf, demanding to be heard.  He was invited.  This is how he began.

 Then Paul stood in front of the Areopagus and said, “Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way.  For as I went through the city and looked carefully at the objects of your worship, I found among them an altar with the inscription, ‘To an unknown god.’ What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you.[2]

^

 This is how the King James Version renders his opening remarks:  “Men of Athens, I perceive you are too superstitious….”

Now, that doesn’t sound very tactful, does it?    Hardly a model of civility.

It makes Paul seem arrogant and judgmental, qualities hardly likely to win a hearing.  The truth is, these qualities are among those which our contemporaries are most-likely to say keeps them from listening to Christians share their faith.

You should know that the King James translation is really misleading.   The New Century Version is closer to the meaning.  Paul actually said, “Men of Athens, I see you are very religious….”  That puts his words into a totally different light.  Rather than seeming arrogant and judgmental, Paul appears to be saying, “I can see you take religion seriously;  so do I, let’s talk.”  That’s being civil.

Paul modeled how to approach those who differed from our world-view, yet over the past few years many of the American church’s best-known representatives have become more and more vitriolic in the language they use toward outsiders.  These people have forgotten how to be civil.

You and I have to work extra hard to overcome the negative impact of the behavior of some of our Christian brothers and sisters.

It’s always easier to be uncivil than to be civil.  But if we want to reach the outsiders, it’s a quality we will have to cultivate. 

The Benefits of Civility

Civility opens doors.  Being civil toward those with whom we disagree may give us the opportunity to be there when they are open to hearing the gospel.

After Senator Edward Kennedy’s death thousands of words were written about his half century in the Senate.  Some praised him, some criticized him.  Maybe you read the surprising column by Cal Thomas.  Thomas is a conservative columnist who was once associated with Jerry Falwell in leading the Moral Majority.  In the column, Thomas talked about Ted Kennedy, his friend!  Thomas spoke of how colleagues attending the tenth anniversary party for his column were shocked when Ted Kennedy walked in.  The Thomas’ were guests of the Kennedys in their home.  The Senator once wrote a friendly blurb for one of Thomas’ books.  Kennedy and Thomas couldn’t have been farther apart in politics yet they had a friendship

Thomas wrote that some of his readers,  discovering the friendship, wrote to suggest he had gone soft.   Would it have been better if Thomas had called Kennedy, the Catholic, a hypocrite because he supported abortion rights?  Should Thomas have blasted Kennedy as a womanizer?  In the minds of some, he probably should have.  Instead, when a television interviewer asked Thomas,  “Bottom line.  Was the senator a good man?” Thomas answered simply and truthfully, “Only God is good.  The rest of us are sinners.”

Because of that friendship, Thomas could say, “I know of… hurts and concerns he shared with the very few he could trust about which I would never speak.”  Please, do not misunderstand.  I am not suggesting Cal Thomas did any overt witnessing to Kennedy.  I am suggesting that civility opened way to a door to an intimacy that harshness and criticism would have left closed and barred.

Speaking the Truth in Love?

I began talking about the world of politics.  Whatever you might think of applying what I’ve said to that world, I hope you see it must apply to the world of the church. 

We Christians don’t have the options politicians do.  We must speak the truth.  As far as I know there are no scriptures telling us how to “spin” the gospel to make it more acceptable.  Speaking the truth may well make people suspicious of us, critical of us, and downright mad at us.  Nonetheless, we must speak the truth and we must speak it in love.

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^{ 28} (4:15) Blaikie, “Ephesians,” XLVI: 150.

^[1]MacDonald, William ; Farstad, Arthur: Believer's Bible Commentary : Old and New Testaments. Nashville : Thomas Nelson, 1997, c1995, S. Eph 4:15

^[2] The Holy Bible : New Revised Standard Version. Nashville : Thomas Nelson, 1996, c1989, S. Ac 17:22

Another Scandal

Matthew 9:9-13

Just in case you haven’t heard, this is a presidential election year.  It looks like we know who the major candidates will be.  Now, we are waiting for them to announce their choice of running mate, that person whom they wish to serve as vice-president, that person who will be a heartbeat away from the presidency.  Years ago, when Nelson Rockefeller was chosen to be Gerald Ford’s VP, reporters asked him if he had given up on being president.  He quipped, “Well, I’ve never been closer.”

Though we sometimes joke about how little the Vice-President has to do, we know it is an important position.  The choice of a running mate may even influence who votes for or against the presidential candidate.  You can be sure Senators McCain and Obama will try to find a running mate who is popular in his or her own right, who brings a kind of balance to the ticket, and, above all, who has no scandalous baggage, nothing to reflect negatively on the campaign.  If that’s important when choosing a potential Vice-President, how important is it should you be choosing those who will help you start a spiritual revolution?

If avoiding negative opinion were the criterion Jesus used in choosing his closest associates, his apostles, Matthew would have never made anyone’s short list. 

Nothing here or in Mark and Luke’s accounts of the event suggest Jesus had any previous contact with Matthew (also known as Levi).  Jesus appears to have simply passed by the tax-booth where Matthew was working and said, “Follow me.”  It’s hard to know which is more amazing, Matthew’s response or Jesus’ invitation. 

Maybe we may assume Matthew had heard something about the remarkable Teacher and Healer who was making such an impact wherever he went.  Perhaps that is why he was so eager to learn more.   Whatever Matthew’s motives for closing shop and following Jesus, had we been living in that first century world we would have found Jesus’ invitation the most shocking.

Though we know they are necessary, most of us moan at least a little about paying taxes.  We may complain that the government too many of our tax dollars much money studying squirrel dandruff and not enough keeping schools in repair, but most of us don’t believe the tax-collector is a reprobate. 

It was a different story in first-century Galilee and Judea. 

The word translated as “tax-collector” in the Gospels can refer to the officials collecting taxes for Rome or to those collecting custom taxes for Herod.  Some Bible scholars believe Zacchaeus, of tree-climbing fame, worked for the Romans and Matthew worked for Herod.  Either way, tax collectors were hated.

·      Their methods were little short of extortion.  They bled people dry to please their masters and enrich themselves.

·      Their work financed the extravagant lifestyles of the elite, lifestyles that often involved immoral behavior.

·      They were looked upon as traitors to the Jewish people, whether they worked for the hated Romans or for the half-breed usurper Herod.

In Jewish writings of the day, they were often associated with thieves, notorious sinners, and were considered “unclean” because of their work.

In short, a tax collector was just the kind of person you’d expect a religious leader to avoid at all cost.

Jesus doesn’t.

Before we talk more about that, perhaps there’s question we need to consider.  Why would Matthew, who also bore the unmistakably Jewish name Levi, become a tax collector?   One commentator suggests the Jews viewed tax collectors the same way the French viewed Nazi collaborators during World War II.  Why would he enter such a despised profession?  We can only speculate on an answer.

·      Like most of us, Matthew probably knew there are some things money can’t buy.  And, like most of us, he probably knew there are some things only money can buy.  A tax collector could become wealthy.  The story suggests Matthew may have done well in his profession.  He could afford to host a banquet at a moment’s notice. 

·      Perhaps Matthew sought prestige.  The local tax collector was a man of influence in the community.   He possessed power.  Some ancient writers report that tax collectors could have delinquent clients beaten if they didn’t pay promptly.  That kind of power appeals to some people.

·      Perhaps he liked rubbing shoulders with the authorities.  Though he might have been a small one, he was, nevertheless, a cog in the machinery of government.  Whenever the Romans or Herod built a new building, the tax collector could say, “My work helped make that possible.”

As I said, we’re just speculating.  We don’t know what led him to become a tax collector, to flaunt the traditions of his people.  We just know that he seemed content to remain in that profession until he met a wandering teacher from Galilee.

It’s unlikely Matthew and Jesus had met before but it is also likely that Matthew had heard something about Jesus.  Matthew’s Gospel is not necessarily as chronological as Mark’s but both agree that Jesus was slowly gaining fame in the region, fame for his teaching and fame for his miracles.  After one such miracle, the people agreed, "We have never seen anything like this!" 

Perhaps, in the aftermath of the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew had heard one of the little stories Jesus had told.  It went something like this:

^24 “Everyone who hears my words and obeys them is like a wise man who built his house on rock. ^25 It rained hard, the floods came, and the winds blew and hit that house. But it did not fall, because it was built on rock. ^26 Everyone who hears my words and does not obey them is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. ^27 It rained hard, the floods came, and the winds blew and hit that house, and it fell with a big crash.”^[1]

That’s just speculation, but maybe Matthew had been asking himself about the foundation on which he was building his life.  We never know when a person may be open to considering a change, when a person may realize that making a u-turn is preferred to pursuing the path that is no longer fulfilling, when a person may yearn for a greater purpose.

We don’t know what thoughts may have been in Matthew’s mind, but we know that, when the opportunity came, he left his well paying position and followed Jesus.

He took Jesus to his home and called some his friends over.  We see this same behavior mirrored in those new Christians who can’t wait to tell their friends about Jesus.  Many other “tax collectors and sinner” came to this party and ate with Jesus and his disciples.   It must have been quite a party.  Peter, Andrew, James, and John were already following Jesus when Matthew joined their ranks.  Though these fishermen were not among the religious elite, I doubt they had ever been around people like these.  Older commentaries used to suggest that the term “sinners” meant Matthew’s friends were common people who didn’t follow all the elaborate hand-washing rituals and other practices the scribes and Pharisees thought were so important.  If that were so, the disciples themselves might sometimes fall under that indictment.  More recent commentators believe “sinners” refers to “sinners in a more blatant sense.”

Jesus’ disciples eventually may have learned to relax in this situation, but the Pharisees were incensed by what was going on.  The Pharisees didn’t eat with this crew, but they seemed to have been able to watch the proceedings.  It may have been in an outdoor setting of some kind.  Anyway they saw the camaraderie between Jesus and these outcasts and didn’t like it.  In their view, Jesus was sullying his reputation just by sharing a meal with such people.

The Pharisees knew it was important to call people to faith, but they seem to have preferred pursuing the better sort of sinner. 

Rather than complain to Jesus directly, the Pharisees complained to his disciples, in effect, “What kind of example is this from your Teacher, acting cozy with crooks and riff-raff?”  Jesus, no doubt as the Pharisees intended, overheard this and recognized it for what it was, a challenge which demanded a verbal response.  Jesus played along.

First, he quoted a proverb popular in that day:  “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.”  A cardiologist friend of me once told me that pathologists wanted the prestige of being doctors but didn’t want to be around sick people.  Jesus didn’t mind being around “sick people.”  In fact, Jesus seemed to be saying the only way to heal the sickest of people is to be willing to be with them.  The Pharisees (and those in their tradition) believed it best to keep their distance so the “sinners” wouldn’t influence them.  Jesus believed he needed to be near the sinners so he could influence them.

Second, Jesus quoted the Scripture.  He quoted the Old Testament book of Hosea, “I desire mercy and not sacrifice.”  Hosea’s message was about the depth and breadth of God’s love.  His own life dramatically reflected how God loved his people.  Hosea’s wife left him to become a prostitute.  In an act of gracious love, Hosea took her back.  Jesus’ words imply that these “Bible scholars” knew nothing about the prophet’s message of love and his insistence that a relationship with God is more important than ritual.  The people Jesus pursued might never learn the right time and way to wash their hands, but they could have a relationship with God.

In the end, this is not a story about Matthew, it is a story about Jesus. 

Jesus can give new potential to a life that has been poorly invested.

Matthew’s life before meeting Jesus seems to have been invested in making money and pursuing the prestige and power his position gave him.  In the end, it wasn’t enough.

Jesus changed that.  Matthew became one of Jesus’ apostles, one of his closest followers.  His life was no longer about making money;  it was about changing lives.  The man who had disdained Jewish tradition would eventually write the most Jewish of the Gospels. 

Jesus saw value in those others had devalued.

We don’t like to admit we ever think like the Pharisees, but sometimes we assume some people are beyond redemption.  We discount them.  Jesus never thought that way.  A. B. Bruce described Jesus’ approach to others.  He said, Jesus “was entirely indifferent to men’s antecedents.”  A person’s past would never stop Jesus from seeing a person’s worth.  

That view of people fits with Jesus’ understanding of his mission:  “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners." 

Conclusion

This year’s presidential candidates are going to try hard to pick running mates untouched by scandal. 

Those of us who are sinners can be grateful that Jesus didn’t mind moving from one scandal to another.  We can thank God he was willing to be a friend of sinners.

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^[1] The Holy Bible : New Century Version , Containing the Old and New Testaments. Dallas, TX : Word Bibles, 1991, S. Mt 7:24