“And you shall set the two stones on the shoulder pieces of the
ephod, as stones of remembrance for the sons of Israel. And Aaron shall bear
their names before the LORD on his two shoulders for remembrance [a memorial,
NASV] … “So Aaron shall bear the names of the sons of Israel in the breastpiece
of judgment on his heart, when he goes into the Holy Place, to bring them to
regular remembrance [as a memorial, NASV] before the LORD. (Exodus 28:12, 29 ESV)
The history of the United States includes events best described as
“watershed” moments – a difficulty so large it changed the course of a nation; an
event when a new paradigm became created; a season when the currents of society
flowed one direction and then abruptly altered itself, redesigning community
values; a time when a shift took place that completely modified a people’s
worldview. This nation had three distinct but interconnected watershed moments.
The first watershed experience occurred in 1776 with the
Declaration of Independence – equality was declared. A war erupted, a
revolutionary war, contributing to the end of foreign domination. Struggle, heartaches, and sacrifices were made.
A second watershed event happened nearly 100 years later in 1863
with the Emancipation Proclamation – equality was defined. A war was
involved, the civil war, contributing to the end of slavery. Struggle,
heartaches, and sacrifices were made.
A third watershed occasion happened nearly 100 years later in 1968
with the Civil Rights movement – equality was designed. A war was engaged,
the Vietnam war, contributing to sounder justice and more equitable opportunities
for everyone. Struggle, heartaches, and sacrifices were made.
No one can fully grasp what life was like before these three distinct
watershed moments – when the country was dominated by a foreign power, or when people
could enslave others, or when fellow citizens experienced social and economic
disparities. Only people living in those eras can place the event in a clear
and objective context – having experienced the hopes and fears, the dreams and
nightmares, the understandings and misunderstandings, the joy and sorrows that contributed
to the social norms. A person had to be there because the mood was vastly
different than they are today.
I lived prior to 1968 – before the Civil Rights movement, before the
drug culture’s transition from the back alleys to the university campuses (when
mind-bending drugs became universally recreational), before the Vietnam war (hated,
scorned, and unsupported). I lived at a time when there was paralyzing fear of
a worldwide nuclear holocaust and worries about the spread of atheistic
communism. How, at that time, did the nation find hope, encouragement, and stability?
The men and women of my generation were raised in homes of World
War II veterans, parents who understood living with meager amounts of basic commodities
and living sacrificially for the sake of the nation. The country’s president during
the ‘50s was a war hero. Patriotism was the norm; respect and honor for leaders
and elder statesmen was standard practice.
Students regularly stood beside their school desks giving the
pledge of allegiance, led by their teacher. Children were taught the courteous
way to address the flag while reciting the pledge or when hearing the national
anthem (an attentive posture while placing the right hand over the heart, a
sign of fidelity).
Most of this has changed today. Watch what happens at sporting
events when the national anthem is played: some spectators and players slouch
with indifference, others mindlessly talk to someone near them, and a few show
tangible defiance. The mandate today is to disregard reverence and esteem for
the tenets of the nation.
Cultural currents have shifted, and the present generation is attempting
to navigate the unsettling nature of things without a reliable compass for guidance
and direction. The result? They are entering the unknown with fear and chaos,
as well as without decorum and dignity.
Throughout the nation’s history, hardships and sacrifices were made
to provide everyone with a more just and equitable way of life, regardless of
skin pigmentation or ethnicity. Can we not be thankful for the progress that
has been accomplished while still looking for ways to improve and refine these
efforts? Can we not recognize that attitudes are not transformed without
heart-change, necessitating earnest prayer for divine help and significant time
for modified behavior? Rome was not built in a day; change does not happen
overnight; impatience is the great enemy.
Some fail to understand that lasting results only come through composure
and compassion; something William Wilberforce, Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther
King, and Nelson Mandela understood and advocated. These individuals
accomplished just and permanent change through a peaceful resolve. Others
have attempted similar outcomes by anarchy and only offended people, impeding
and sometimes blocking success. Hate and scorn cannot bring rightful and enduring change.
What helps guide people into lasting solutions? What helps enhance
and augment needed reforms? Remembering and appreciating the noble attempts and
the earnest efforts of past generations. By valuing their memorials – the monuments
and flag.
The memorial
The word “memorial” means “to remember”;
it comes from the same word for “memory.”
Exodus states the High Priest wore a
“remembrance” (a memorial) before God. His priestly attire included an item called an ephod, which means
“covering.” It was a shoulder
piece made of precious metal and fine material. Inserted in this covering were two gems and on each stone were the names
of six of the twelve tribes of Israel.
Suspended from the shoulder piece was a
shield over the heart. On this breastplate were
12 gems. Each stone, uniquely
different, represented a tribe of Israel.
Place this religious word-picture in
your mind: On his shoulders were the entire nation, and over his heart
was each individual tribe. God sees a nation as an entity, yet its people-groups as uniquely special.
The High Priest carried Israel
as a personal burden and covered each people-group with love. Whenever the High Priest wore his robe of
responsibility, he “remembered” a nation blessed by the Lord, and each people-group as a “memorial” distinctly
loved by God. Today, that priestly responsibility is given to those who abide
in Christ, the royal priesthood of believers. (1 Peter 2:9; Revelation 1:6) We
are to carry the burden of this nation, and we are to cover with love every
people-group.
The monuments
Israel throughout its history built
monuments. Joshua 4 records the
Israelites as they were about to enter the Promised Land. The parents witnessed the Red Sea divide; their
grown children saw the Jordan River stopped. It was a momentous, monumental occasion.
God had once again demonstrated His unlimited power.
Future generations needed to remember what happened at the Jordan
River, to remember both the victories and defeats of the nations’
progress. They erected a monument of twelve stones out of the
riverbed, an actual “watershed” testimony. Each stone represented a people-group. When future generations passed the monument, parents were to tell stories
from the past to their children, both the successes and failures,
the pleasant and unpleasant – giving a true and accurate picture
of real life, teaching how God helped their ancestors make a nation through
struggles, heartaches, and sacrifices.
The memorial helped people to know and
appreciate their advancement. They were no longer as they were and were not yet
what they were fully meant to be. Yet, by faithfulness to God and to one
another, they would continue to broaden righteousness and justice throughout
the nation.
The flag
The American flag serves as a memorial. During a veteran’s funeral, the flag is used
as a memory. The flag draped
over a coffin reminds others of the struggles, heartaches, and sacrifices required
for making a better tomorrow.
My father had a flag on his coffin. Years
later, after my mother died, my sister
and I went through the house collecting family memories. In a box, in a rarely used closet, was a
little book about the history of my dad’s military unit, Company C of the 752nd
Army Battalion. The flag on his
coffin represented boot camp in the hot summer months of Louisiana, boarding a
troopship to cross the Atlantic Ocean on Christmas Eve 1944, and experiencing war
in Belgium as a locomotive engineer.
The flag on the coffin of a veteran
represents the sufferings and sorrows of war. And flags mounted in front of buildings and displayed
at sporting events remind the nation of her inherited freedoms.
The gravestones
I have walked through many graveyards. They
are quiet places of memories.
My wife and I have seen the marker of
Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane in Deadwood, South Dakota. We have seen the marker of Charles Lindbergh,
the famous aviator, in a lonely cemetery on the island of Maui. We have walked through Arlington National
Cemetery, seeing the eternal flame at the graves of the Kennedys, and witnessing
the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Near Abraham Lincoln’s
tomb in Springfield, Illinois is a well-worn bust of the late President.
Although the site is not generally
disclosed, we have stood at the marker of Al Capone.
We have seen the markers of nice people,
legendary people, and mean people. All these memorials have one thing in common:
An entire lifespan is brought down to the size of a dash between two dates. Most
people will not have a street, a building, or a city named after them. Regardless of fame or obscurity, everyone
ends up equal. They are remembered as a dash in time.
In Remembrance
One of my closest childhood friends was
killed in Vietnam. I read about his death in
the newspaper while home on military leave and went to visit his mother.
She told me about his funeral, and I
went to the burial place to locate his marker.
The cemetery had rows of white monuments, all the same shape and size. Some had small flags nearby. I walked down several rows until I came to
his marker, which indicated his name and showed two dates. I took the time to remember
him at his monument.
Fort Lawton Cemetery
His name was Christopher James Gray,
better known to his friends as Kippy. We met at school during the 4th grade. Our favorite game was roleplaying characters from
the Old West – we jumped into ravines, rolled in the dirt, and came up shooting
the bad guys yelling, “bang.” Sometimes
we played Soldiers – charging up hills to attack enemy bunkers and destroying
machine-gun nests. Our
friendship became solidified by our games.
In Junior High School our antics were
more sophisticated (troublesome). These were not the smartest years of our lives.
With High School came girlfriends and
dating. We decided one requirement for the girls we dated was the ability to
get along with each other. We were not going to let them interfere with our friendship.
Near the end of my junior year at High
School, I decided to become a follower of Jesus. Kip and I remained close, but
lifestyles gradually became different, causing less time together. After High School, I joined the Air Force and
he joined the Army.
In August 1968, we were both home before
going overseas. I was a trained Nuclear
Missile Technician with orders for Okinawa; he was a qualified Helicopter Machine
Gunner with orders for Vietnam. This
was our last time together.
We did not keep in contact overseas. I
wished we had. We both came back to the
States in December 1969. I was seated in the passenger compartment of my flight;
he was transported in the baggage compartment of his flight.
Vietnam Memorial Wall, Washington
DC
A monument of a person killed in
conflict is not just a stone marker, and the flag mounted by a grave is not
about a bland ideology. It is a remembrance,
representing a life given in sacrifice. It is a memorial to a person whose body pulsated with blood and oscillated
with breath, who sensed happiness and pain, who experienced joy and fear.
A life that knew love and loneliness,
just like you and me.
The dash between two dates on a grave
maker represents a body that bleeds when cut and dies when mortally wounded. The dash of someone killed in combat is
about an individual who put aside personal ambition and sacrificed their life.
When the flag is draped over a coffin, respect
and honor are being given to the memory of people whose lives made possible our
“life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
Show Honor
Each year we set aside various days
(Memorial Day, Flag Day, Independence Day, Veterans Day) to remember. We use these times to honor soldiers,
marines, sailors, and airmen who had a vision beyond personal comfort, who saw
a purpose greater than life itself.
Whether in WWII, Korea, Vietnam, Persian
Gulf, or some other war, whether during a skirmish in some unknown conflict at
some little-known location, these people gave service to their country. The flag placed over a casket is about
ordinary people who did extraordinary service.
What does the US flag mean? Some mistakenly believe the flag simply represents
a philosophy of governance. No,
the flag is about flesh and blood; we are the flag. When citizens vandalize the flag, they shame themselves – they deface their self-worth and demolish their stance before
others.
The ephod worn by the High Priest was
not about precious gems and intricately woven materials; it was a memorial of a
nation dedicated to God. Similarly, the US flag is not simply a multi-colored fabric
representing a sociological-economic system. The nation's flag is about a country “under
God”, about people-groups living as one solely by divine grace and mercy, and about
each citizen living responsibly with their endowed privileges.
The US flag is about people-groups with
enduring freedoms: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are
created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable
rights, among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”
(Declaration of Independence)
The US flag is about a nation of justice,
peace, and safety: “We the people of the United States, in order to form a more
perfect Union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the
common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of
liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this
Constitution for the United States of America.” (Preamble of the Constitution)
Final thought
One of Kippy’s last letters to his
mother includes these lines: “Death is ever-present. I think now of this
subject because after so long one can no longer say, ‘It won’t happen to me’ –
for it will if God so decrees.
Kippy just before going to Vietnam
“What am I to write? Do I speak the
truth and tell that my young friends die; do I say that I have seen people
crack up when bombs burst near them; or do I say that I have heard the sobs of
warriors in the middle of the night crying out for help? I could, but who would
grasp the meaning of such talk? None but those who have seen and heard and felt
the same in this and other wars. Freedom will never come cheap; I only hope there never comes a time men
think differently.”
A memorial is not merely a marble
monument or a national flag; it represents people who by testing and agony
fulfilled God’s purposes and plans. When we respect the flag and give tribute to
the monuments, we honor the sacrifices of many, both in the past and the
present, who have made or are making life better for the nation.
With a thankful mindset, honor the memorials of the nation – the various monuments, and the nation’s
flag. Learn from and be grateful for the struggle, the heartaches, and the
sacrifices of the men and women represented by the nation’s commemoratives.
