Memorial Day 2026

Today is Memorial Day, and through the years, I've come to realize how many different things this holiday can mean to people.  I've met people who won't celebrate it because of its roots in memorializing the Civil War Union dead.  My dad was an Air Force officer in the Reserves until he retired, so Memorial Day was personal for him.  I don't think I know anyone who was killed while on active duty, but I do want to honor those who died.  Some people I've known seem to have no inkling that the holiday has anything to do with soldiers at all--for them, it's about getting a good deal on a holiday sale or opening up the vacation home or having a cook out.

I remember feeling desperate for Memorial Day, for a day off, but during my days of working as an administrator, I was always desperate for a day off, a day off that didn't require me to use up any of my paltry allotment of vacation time.  For the past several years, Memorial Day as a three day week-end was not top of my mind, since I've already had a few weeks of schedule easing in May.

I also know that many people don't get to have time off.  All of our grocery stores are open today, for example.  When I taught in community colleges in South Carolina, we didn't have Memorial Day off.  Our nursing students needed every scrap of time in the summer, so that holiday had to be sacrificed so that we stayed in compliance.  Or maybe it was because of the Civil War; I got different explanations. In past years, I've used the day off to catch up on grading for my online classes.  

This year, I'm thinking about past years, when war seemed far away.  And now, here we are, with war in Europe (Ukraine) and war with Iran, and lots of smaller scale wars across the globe.

But let me circle back to the intent of this holiday.  On this day which has become for so many of us just an excuse to have a barbecue, let us pause to reflect and remember. If we're safe right now, let us say a prayer of gratitude. Let us remember that we've still got lots of military people serving in dangerous places.

Let us remember how often the world zooms into war. Let us pray to be preserved from those horrors.

Here's a prayer I wrote for Memorial Day:

God of comfort, on this Memorial Day, we remember those souls whom we have lost to war. We pray for those who mourn. We pray for military members who have died and been forgotten. We pray for all those sites where human blood has soaked the soil. God of Peace, on this Memorial Day, please renew in us the determination to be peacemakers. On this Memorial Day, we offer a prayer of hope that military people across the world will find themselves with no warmaking jobs to do. We offer our pleading prayers that you would plant in our leaders the seeds that will sprout into saplings of peace.

Teaching from the Buddhist Monks Who Are Walking for Peace

Like many, I've been moved by the Buddhist monks who are walking from Texas to D.C. for peace.  I even talked about them in a sermon in early January, as something giving me hope.

Today they'll be at the National Cathedral, and I'm not sure of their time in D.C. beyond that.  It's hard for me to imagine any officials from the federal government meeting with them, the way that state governing people along the way have, but I'm willing to be happily surprised.

In this post on Diana Butler Bass's Substack, she gives the monks' answer to why they are walking.  I want to make sure I have this, should I want to find the words later, so let me post them here:

"Some people may doubt that our walk can bring peace to the world — and we understand that doubt completely. But everything that has ever mattered began with something impossibly small. A single seed. A first mindful breath. A quiet decision to take one step, then another.

Our walking itself cannot create peace. But when someone encounters us — whether by the roadside, online, or through a friend — when our message touches something deep within them, when it awakens the peace that has always lived quietly in their own heart — something sacred begins to unfold.

That person carries something forward they didn’t have before, or perhaps something they had forgotten was there. They become more mindful in their daily life — more present with each breath, more aware of each moment. They speak a little more gently to their child. They listen more patiently to their partner. They extend kindness to a stranger who needed it desperately.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

And that stranger, touched by unexpected compassion, carries it forward to someone else. And it continues — ripple by ripple, heart by heart, moment by moment — spreading outward in ways none of us will ever fully witness, creating more peace in the world than we could possibly measure.

This is our contribution — not to force peace upon the world, but to help nurture it, one awakened heart at a time. Not the Walk for Peace alone can do this, but all of us together — everyone who has been walking with us in spirit, everyone who feels something stir within them when they encounter this journey, everyone who decides that cultivating peace within themselves matters.

One step becomes two. Two become a thousand. A thousand become countless. And slowly, gently, persistently — not through grand gestures but through ten thousand small acts of love — we can help make the world more peaceful.

This is our hope. This is our offering. This is why we walk.

May you and all beings be well, happy, and at peace."

Peace in the Middle East?

It has been a week of Nobel awards; this morning, along with many others, I'm waiting to see who wins the Peace Prize.  It's been a week of grim anniversaries:  the 2 year anniversary of the war in Gaza is the primary one that consumed much of the news.  But it's also a week where there might be a chance for peace in the Middle East.

I've also been alive long enough to know how impossible it seems to have peace in the Middle East, and how fragile any progress can be.  I've seen deals rejected, deals that seemed like good ones to me.  I've seen people dig into paths that will lead to certain ruin.

There are people wiser than I am who have many more words than I do.  But it seems like we might be at a hinge point here, and I wanted to note it.  

I've been thinking of other intractable conflicts which suddenly were solved, most notably the one in Ireland.  When that was signed in the late 90's, I thought that it had a slim chance of success.  And here we are, decades later, and peace has held.

May it also be so now. 

Honor Flight Week-end

 On Friday, my sister and I headed down the road to Williamsburg.  Even though we both live in the DC area, we needed to be down there, to take my dad to the Mariner's Museum for the Honor Flight experience we'd been planning for months.  We needed to be there at 5:15--yes, 5:15 a.m.

We got our t-shirts and jackets--blue for veterans and yellow for guardians who would accompany veterans every step of the way.  Because our group had more guardians than veterans, my sister and I were both assigned to our dad, which was what we had wanted from the beginning.

We had time to change and time to take stuff back to the car and then we were treated to a full breakfast buffet.  We knew we would get breakfast, but we were expecting something more along the lines of a granola bar or something portable to take on the bus.

All along the way, groups of people were there to greet us and welcome us, all sorts of people, and all ages.  I think my dad was most touched by how many children came along to be part of the crowds of people gathering to say thank you and to welcome the Honor Flight groups.

We got on the bus and headed up the road to the DC area--yes, we've spent the last 4 days up and down and up and down.  We went to a variety of spots:  the Marine Museum in Quantico, Virginia, the WWII memorial on the Mall, along with the Vietnam memorial and the Korean War memorial.  Then we moved away from the Mall, to the Iwo Jima Memorial and on to Arlington National Cemetery.

We were there in time for the changing of the guard and two wreath laying ceremonies:

It was a moving end to a meaningful day.  Well, it wasn't exactly the end.  We boarded the buses and made our way (very slowly along packed highways) back to Fredericksburg where we ate a delicious meal of barbecue:  3 types of shredded meat (chicken, pork, or brisket), mac and cheese, baked beans, corn bread, rolls, and coleslaw.  It was delicious.

Then we got back on the buses and headed further south, back to our starting point at the Mariner's Museum,  We finally got home to Williamsburg at 11:00 p.m.  It was a long day, but a good one, and we're all aware that we may not have this kind of opportunity to be together like this often as the years continue.

It was interesting to travel along these sites and to think about these conflicts that marked the 20th century, conflicts that happened in living memory.  I have had these conflicts in mind as Putin's war against Ukraine has progressed.  These memorials make the human cost clear:

Each star represents US lives lost in battle in WWII, a very small portion of lives lost and altered:

And yet, it's also clear, with the wisdom of hindsight, that appeasement of a despot rarely ends well.  I spent Saturday surrounded by people who know this wisdom, sometimes at great personal cost.   I wish everyone could have the knowledge that monuments to war can give us.

I wish we didn't have to learn these lessons over and over again.

Learning to Dream Again

I confess that I have often approached Martin Luther King day as a celebration of how far we've come--and let us take a moment to remember how far we really have come, and in a relatively short time.  For example, when I took a summer job in 1985 at a D.C. office of Lutheran Social Services, I met a black woman who was old enough to have experienced Jim Crow laws and how they impacted travel by car just 25 years earlier.

And now, same gender couples can get married.

Some of us are worried about the erosion of Civil Rights.  We tell ourselves that once rights are given they can't be taken away, but you don't have to do too much digging in history to realize that statement is not true.

Some of us are frustrated that the rest of us never realized how much was left to be done.  That's fair.  But now it must be clear to us all.

So on this day that honors one of our Civil Rights leaders, let us take some time to think about the work left to do and how we might be part of it:

--We can shake the despair we might have been feeling in the past.  Let us dream boldly again.  If any society was possible, what elements would we want to have as part of that society?

--We can use our art, whatever those talents might be, to share that vision with others.

--We can use the old tools of writing letters to lawmakers, organizing, marching, and teaching to dismantle the structures that oppress.

--We can learn to use the new tools of social media--those are the tools that taught many of us how much work is left to be done.

--If we're spiritual/religious people, we can pray that our vision of a better future will come to pass.  We can ask for Divine help.

--We can remember that much of the work of social justice is not the type that will get us a holiday in our honor.  In fact, those Civil Rights workers, including King, did that kind of work for years and decades before breakthroughs happened.  We can do the work of making the sandwiches, running the childcare centers, working with disadvantaged students, listening to the dispossessed in our own communities.

There's plenty of work to do and a wide variety of ways to do it.  That's both a frustration and a blessing.  There's room for each of us, although the work we do may feel very piddly.

We can't always know that progress is being made when we work for social justice.  We proceed in faith, trusting that our work will not be done in vain.  Perhaps that's true of any big project:  books that we write, children that we raise, students that we educate, long-term relationships of all kinds.

Today is a good day to take some time to envision a better future, for ourselves, for our children, for future generations who will marvel at what's been done.  What dreams do we have?  If we believed that anything was possible, what would we want to see?  

Let us do what can be the hardest work of all--to believe that anything is possible.

Veterans Day in a Time of War Threats

Dawn of another Veteran's Day, both sun and clouds and a wind that sounds threatening.  Before today was Veteran's Day, it was Armistice Day, the day that celebrated the signing of the Armistice that ended World War I. In some ways, it's not a hard holiday to celebrate. Any event that restores peace in our time is worth some sober meditation.

However, those of us who know our history may be chastened by the knowledge of what was to come. The end of World War I planted the seeds that would blossom into World War II. World War I brought carnage on a level never before seen--but World War II would be even worse.

Why is it so hard for humans to remain at peace? There are whole series of books that address this question, so I won't attempt it here. Still, today is a good day to offer extra prayers for sustained peace in our time. World War I and all the other wars of the 20th century offer us vivid examples of the horrible consequences of the lack of peace.

Veteran's Day is also a good day to offer prayers of thanks for the military people who have been willing to fight. I want desperately to be a pacifist, but I will admit that sometimes tyrants must be dealt with forcefully. My pessimistic side believes that violence is the only language that tyrants understand, but the 20th century has given us many examples of the peaceful overturning of despots, so I don't fully believe my pessimistic side. Still, we often don't use the forces of non-violence in enough time, and so, force may be our only option (witness the example of Hitler).

We're at a point in history where many of us feel the darkness of war whispering in some corners of the planet, while raging in other parts of the world.  It's hard not to sink into despair.

For today, let's think about the nations that work hard to suppress the urge to go to war.  Let us celebrate a world that can move toward peace.  Let us pray for a time when war will come no more.

Here's a prayer I wrote for Veteran's Day:


God of Peace, on this Veteran's Day, please renew in us the determination to be peacemakers. On this day, we pray for all who are damaged by wars big and small. We offer a prayer of thanks for our veterans, and we offer a prayer of hope that military people across the world will find themselves with no warmaking jobs to do. We offer our pleading prayers that you would plant in our leaders the seeds that will sprout into saplings of peace.

Children's Community Peace Garden

In these times of hatred spewed out of mouths both expected and unlikely, let me focus on something that might bring peace and gentleness.

This morning, I found this Facebook post on my pastor's page:

"We've been talking for a while now at Trinity about replacing the prayer labyrinth that was destroyed a handful of Holy Weeks ago by vandals (meaning that they crushed to shards some 800 re-purposed red clay barrel roof tiles. )
But what if...what if the focus was a Children's Community Peace Garden ? One that included (likely in stages) mostly interactive things like a prayer labyrinth, a garden peace Bell to ring, a place to make a mandala out of sand and colored stones, prayer flags to hang, a peace path with peace quotes along the way, a butterfly garden, and more. A place where pre schools and other schools and family's could come and learn about and reflect upon and practice forms of peace either on their own or on special days with more activities organized by our congregation and others?"

I love this idea.  We are letting a preschool put a playground on part of our grounds, so this vision dovetails nicely.

In these difficult times, let us remember that we can be peacemakers.  Let us remember all the ways that we can be peacemakers.

Peace on Our Borders

Yesterday was one of those surreal days, wanting to check the news to see if anyone has fired any missiles that we can't take back, being swamped in the daily tasks of meetings, and wondering if I should be doing any prep work in advance of a possible nuclear exchange.

But what prep work would that be exactly?  Should we start digging a hole for a fallout shelter?

 

Oh, wait, we're only 20 inches above sea level--we're doomed if survival means we need to go underground.

 

This morning I was reading the morning prayers in Phyllis Tickle's prayer book, The Divine Hours.  Part of the prayers for this morning came from Psalm 147, and I was struck by this language:  "He grants peace to your borders."

 

It's interesting to read this language in the context of our modern geopolitics.  We need peace on everyone's borders, because conflict so easily splashes over to affect everyone.

 

I felt such a yearning well up when I read that passage.  I said a prayer of my own:  "Yes, come Lord Jesus and grant peace to our borders."

 

What will today bring?  Will we really go to war over Guam?  I am hoping that we will all do as we have done in the past:  walk back from the brink.  I am not sure that the leader of the U.S. and the leader of North Korea are actually capable of backing down.  This is not a situation that makes me rest easy.

And yet, as I look back over history that has happened during my lifetime, I know that God can use the most unlikely people to bring about peace we never would have believed possible.  Let it be true this time too.

Vigils, with Candles and Prayers

This is not a picture from the candlelight vigil in Pembroke Pines that I attended on Tuesday night:

It's a picture from Christmas Eve service, which is probably the closest I've come to a candlelight vigil.

On Monday morning, I heard about a vigil that was held in Wilton Manors (part of our county with a significant population of gay households) on Sunday--obviously, it was too late to go.  I found myself wishing I had attended.

So, when our pastor posted that a group would carpool to a candlelight vigil at the city of Pembroke Pines on Tuesday night, I said I would be coming.  And that's how I ended up at the City Hall of Pembroke Pines holding a candle.

As I headed over after spin class, I did wonder if we might be arrested.  But we were all on the same side.  We heard all of the city officials offer words of support to those who lost loved ones in Orlando.  We heard reminders of the city's support of inclusivity.  We saw a reminder of that commitment in the speakers:  Christian and likely not (the dark-skinned man in the turban was likely not Christian, but I couldn't hear him, so I'm not sure), male and female, homosexual and not.  I was likewise surrounded by a mix of people, some of us who wore our various identities proudly (clerics and stoles and rainbow sneakers and t-shirts with various proclamations) and some of us in ordinary clothes.

We all lit our candles and held them high, as the clergy spokesperson reminded us of the strength of many candles.  It looked like this:

Photo taken by Keith Spencer

On my way home, I tried to remember if I had attended a candlelight vigil like that one.  Nothing comes to mind.  I've gone to prayer vigils in churches, but that's not quite the same.  I went to a public park to see a release of cranes on one August 6 to commemorate the Hiroshima bombing.  I've gone to rallies and marches, but again, that's a very different experience.

My spouse remembers attending candlelight vigils in college, and he said, "Surely I wouldn't have attended those without you?"  I pointed out that he might have gone in the year before I arrived.

Once I went to a variety of rallies and marches.  I knew people who built shantytowns on the quads of their campuses.  My life is quieter now.

It was good to gather at city hall, to declare that hate cannot conquer us, to light our candles in solidarity.  It was sad that we still have so many opportunities that demand our candlelight vigils, but it's heartening that so many would attend a quickly organized vigil on a Tuesday night.

There are over 50 similar vigils planned around our county this week, and I'm certain there will be many across the country.  I'll light my candle, and I'll continue to hope for a day when we no longer have that need.

Prayers and Practices for Memorial Day

I have always had an uneasy relationship with Memorial Day.  My dad served in the Air Force so we were never far away from a conversation about the sacrifices others made so that we could live in freedom.  We went to memorials and statues and cemeteries.  We often made our way to Washington D.C., where it's impossible not to be aware of the sacrifices made--so many and of so many kinds--for the sake of freedom.

As I got older, I wanted to be a pacifist, and so, Memorial Day became more difficult.  I've read my history, though, and I realize how often war, even if held as the last resort, has been necessary.

It is impossible not to realize the cost of war.  There's the money, of course, and the death of soldiers.  We may forget the other costs:  the families of military members, the injured veterans, the civilians damaged in so many ways, peace of all kinds shattered.

So, on this day which has become for so many of us just an excuse to have a barbecue or open up the beach house, let us pause to reflect and remember.  If we're safe right now, let us say a prayer of gratitude.  Let us remember that we've still got lots of military people serving in dangerous places--and even if they're not in dangerous places, we all still face threats, military people more than others in some places. 

Let us remember how often the world zooms into war.  Let us pray to be preserved from those horrors.

Let us pray for nations that are involved in wars.  Let us pray for a time when we can all beat our swords into ploughshares.

We could resolve to do more than pray.  We could get involved in social justice groups that actively work to bring the world to a more peaceful place.

We could resolve that we're going to do more to support our veterans.  We could donate money to groups that care for vets.  We could make care packages.  We could write cards.



Here's a prayer I wrote for Memorial Day:


God of comfort, on this Memorial Day, we remember those souls whom we have lost to war.  We pray for those who mourn.  We pray for military members who have died and been forgotten.  We pray for all those sites where human blood has soaked the soil.  God of Peace, on this Memorial Day, please renew in us the determination to be peacemakers.  On this Memorial Day,we offer a prayer of hope that military people across the world will find themselves with no warmaking jobs to do. We offer our pleading prayers that you would plant in our leaders the seeds that will sprout into saplings of peace.

Celebrating Christmas by Visiting a Mosque

Yesterday was an unusual Christmas for us.  I'm beginning to think that there's no such thing as a usual Christmas, but yesterday was highly unusual.

At 1:15, we headed over to our church to be part of a group that took a peace lily and a card to the mosque that's down the street from our Lutheran church.  On the fourth Sunday in Advent, church members had an opportunity to write good wishes on the card:

Later, our pastor read the card to make sure that all would be well.  Happily, the most risky thing that anyone had written was "Merry Christmas."

Just before 2:00 on Christmas afternoon, we drove over to the mosque.  We weren't sure what to expect.  It's the kind of mosque with separate entrances for males and females, but after we took our shoes off, we were all seated in the male section on chairs.

Most of the males were seated on the floor.  Older males with mobility issues sat on chairs.  Some of the males stood up and then kneeled deeply with foreheads on the floor--some did this regularly, some only as they first came in, some not at all, and some followed a pattern I couldn't discern.

We were seated as the speaker (the imam?) delivered an address that seemed like a sermon.  The themes of the sermon weren't unfamiliar to me:  you show your love for Allah and his prophet Muhammad by being the best version of yourself.  People are judging all Muslims by our behavior, so pay attention to how you behave in the world.  It's not enough to behave properly, but you also need to act out of love.  The supremacy of love and the beating back of fear were themes woven through the 40 minute part that we heard.

People kept arriving throughout the talk.  After the talk, we got to witness the time of prayer.  I thought, I am a white, Christian woman seated on the male side of the mosque; I am not likely ever to witness this again.

The prayers were in Arabic (I think).  There was a time of standing, a time of deep kneeling, some motion similar to the crossing of oneself that some Christians do.  The leader did most of the chanting, and at one point, the men answered back.

It was a fascinating experience, all of it, from an ecumenical standpoint and from an exercise in modern Sociology/Anthropology.

I had one moment of disbelief tinged by fear, during the sermon time as more and more men filled the room.  I thought, what am I doing here, a good Lutheran girl surrounded by Muslim men--not safe, not safe, not safe!  And then I laughed at myself, a woman on a peace mission who feels that flare of fear.  I reminded myself that no one wants any trouble, that I'm in the U.S., not some remote part of the world--and even in a remote part of the world, I would likely be treated with respect.  Those horrific crimes, like the woman raped to death in India on a bus at Christmas a few years ago, those make the news because they are so bizarre and out of the ordinary.

I also know that my white skin and U.S. citizenship buys me protection that many females across the world don't have, but we weren't at the mosque to discuss that.  We were at the mosque to bring a message of peace and hope on Christmas day.  And I had noticed that there was a police officer on hand--not to protect me, but to protect the mosque.

In the South Florida area we've only had a few anti-Muslim incidents, some graffiti, and some of that just hateful or strange, not necessarily targeted at Muslims--they happened in the same week of some anti-Jewish incidents.  There's plenty of hate out there.

Luckily, the men in the mosque were very welcoming.  The leader invited us to the front to make a speech.  Our pastor gave our message of peace and good will and hope for continued co-existence.  Lots of men held up their phones and iPads and took pictures.  As we filed out, people shook our hands, thanked us for coming, wished us a Merry Christmas, and outside, offered us a fried falafel-like ball.

It was an amazing experience, one completely outside of our usual Christmas celebrations, but one that felt right at home.  As our pastor reminded us one Christmas Eve, if we leave the baby Jesus as a cute infant in the manger, we've lost the point.  Jesus came to equip us to do exactly what we did yesterday--to reach out to people who are very unlike us, to make community and neighbors out of unlikely groups.

It was a great way to celebrate the birth of Jesus, of God breaking into the world in new and unlikely ways.  It was a great way to let our light shine, so that the darkness does not overcome it.

Prayers on Memorial Day

The wind has howled all night, as we have moved from Pentecost to Memorial Day.  I wake up with a vague unease, as I often do on Memorial Day.

Is it because of Memorial Day?   Even though my dad was in the Air Force, and then the Air Force reserve, for most of my life, I, like many Americans, have felt some ambivalence about the military. I have some trouble reconciling my religious beliefs which tend towards pacifism, to the necessity for military protection. There have been times in my lifetime where I've thought, at last, we're moving towards a world that won't need military action. And then the world launches into a new form of barbarism.
It is impossible not to realize the cost of war.  There's the money, of course, and the death of soldiers.  We may forget the other costs:  the families of military members, the injured veterans, the civilians damaged in so many ways, peace of all kinds shattered.

So, on this day which has become for so many of us just an excuse to have a barbecue, let us pause to reflect and remember.  If we're safe right now, let us say a prayer of gratitude.  Let us remember that we've still got lots of military people serving in dangerous places.  And recent events have reminded me that the world we feel is safe can quickly dissolve into conflict and war.

Oh so quickly.

Today, I'd like to be at a national monument, listening to one of the service bands perform. Or maybe I'd rather be in a contemplative spot, saying a thank you.  Or maybe something more festive.  I miss the small town parades; I know that my college town of Newberry, South Carolina will be celebrating in ways that remind me of the 1950's.  Now I no longer know the stories of my neighbors.  I don't know whose great great grandfather/uncle served in which ways.

Now I live in a place that feels more like a future U.S., where English isn't the dominant language, where there are more recent arrivals than people with ancestors buried in the soil. Most days, I'm cool with this, and invigorated by it.

But today, I feel uneasy.  Part of it is the wind.  I've lived in states in the U.S. South where this kind of wind portends a fiercer wind later, as the heat has time to build to storms.

Part of my unease is how invisible the military feels to so many people today.  Once, all of my schoolmates had relatives, often a father, who had served in the military.  Now I find that I'm often the only one.  Growing up, I chafed a bit under the expectations of military family discipline.  Now I find myself thinking we might all be better if national service was required.

In his lecture several weeks ago, David Brooks responded to a question about the value of national service.  He said, "A kid from Connecticut living with a kid from Birmingham living with a kid from Cody, Wyoming--that would be valuable in many ways."

We've become a more stratified society in so many ways, and not just the economic ways that often trigger handwringing.  More and more, most of us tend to meet people just like us.  Maybe that's the source of my unease.

But most likely my unease comes from this day to honor the dead--while realizing that we are far from a world where we can beat our swords into ploughshares and practice war no more.

So, let me return to a valuable practice.  Let me pray to the One who has more power than I do in these matters.

 Here's a prayer I wrote for Memorial Day:

God of comfort, on this Memorial Day, we remember those souls whom we have lost to war.  We pray for those who mourn.  We pray for military members who have died and been forgotten.  We pray for all those sites where human blood has soaked the soil.  God of Peace, on this Memorial Day, please renew in us the determination to be peacemakers.  On this Memorial Day,we offer a prayer of hope that military people across the world will find themselves with no warmaking jobs to do. We offer our pleading prayers that you would plant in our leaders the seeds that will sprout into saplings of peace.

Veterans Day Resources

I have a post up at the Living Lutheran site that has some theological meditations on Veterans Day and the military.  Here are some quotes to whet your appetite:

"Veterans Day is also a good day to offer prayers of thanks for the military people who have been willing to fight. I want desperately to be a pacifist, but I will admit that sometimes tyrants must be dealt with forcefully."

"I'm also painfully aware of how often peace is won at the hard cost of human life. I'm aware of the difficult acts that must be done so that those of us across oceans can sleep peacefully at night.  I'm aware of how many veterans will never sleep peacefully through the night again."

"But for Veterans Day, let's take a minute to appreciate how few of us in most nations in the developed world have had to experience war first-hand. Let us celebrate a world that can move toward peace. Let us pray for a time when war will come no more."

Go here to read the whole post.

If you're in the mood for pictures from Mepkin Abbey and a poem for Armistice Day, go to this blog post on my creativity site.

Social Justice: Are We Mandelas or Afrikaners?

In all of our memories in the wake of the death of Nelson Mandela, I think it's important to remember that the outcome we know now--Mandela released to become the first freely elected president of South Africa and a nation transformed--that outcome was so impossible that few of us dared to hope for it. Somewhere in my photo albums, I have a fading picture of a friend wearing his "Free Mandela" t-shirt. Mandela had been in jail for our whole lives, and we expected he would die there, t-shirts or no t-shirts.

I think it's important to remember how strong the forces of evil seemed then--and it wasn't just South Africa.  I spent many years in the 1980's meeting refugees from Central America.  They had tales of horror that were hard to believe.  And then to find out that our government supported El Salvador--and to watch Missing, and to discover that we weren't always a bright, shining light of freedom as a country.  During those cold war days, it seemed a hopeless task to advocate for liberty.

But we built our shantytowns on the Lawn, we helped Central Americans get to Canadian safety, we demanded changes in U.S. policy which were ignored or dismissed. We bought our protest albums and went to concerts. Elders sneered and warned us about the dangers of not establishing anti-communist bulwarks, even if they were staffed by genocidal maniacs, as much of Latin America was in the 1980's.

For many of us, it was a spiritual fight too.  I remember going to Jubilee Partners in Comer, Georgia.  At that time, they were a group working to get Central American refugees to Canada.  Later, I read a book, With Our Own Eyes, by Don Mosley, one of the founders.  He remembers not only the 1000+ people that they helped/saved, but all of those who perished.

I went to many a candlelight vigil, many a prayer service, many a demonstration.  I remember a multi-faith gathering that assembled to mark the 15th anniversary of the Soweto uprising. We prayed for the end to apartheid. I can't speak for the others, but I didn't expect it to happen. It's not the first time I've dismissed the power of nonviolent protest and prayer, and happily, it's not the only time I've been proven wrong. For more on the power of non-violence and the intersection of faith movements, see this great article by Jonathan Schell and Taylor Branch.


All the coverage, particularly of Mandela's speeches, all this coverage makes me think about my own life.  What would I be willing to die for?  Would I be willing to die for it even if it wasn't clear my sacrifice would make a difference?

I think about the value of a moral compass and all the ways we can ignore our moral compasses.  I wonder about my own life and all the compromises I worry that I am making.

But I also think of vignettes from my past few weeks as an administrator and teacher.  I work hard to stay a person of compassion, and I think it's vitally important to have people of compassion in positions of power, whether that power be nationwide or more local.

I may not be ending a brutal system like apartheid, but I can help students in their struggles to finish their educations before their money runs out, and I can fight for good working conditions for my faculty.

Some days, I believe that.  Other days it seems like a gross rationalization to me, a way to let me stay in middle class comfort, enjoying the fruits of oppression.

I want to be Nelson Mandela, but I fear I'm an Afrikaner.  I want to write missives that will inspire people to take the arc of history in their hands and bend it towards justice--but I fear I am missing my mark.

Praise and Prayers on Veteran's Day

Today is Veteran's Day.  How many veterans do you know?

I do wonder about the future of Veteran's Day as fewer and fewer people know any veterans. Or maybe as we wind down two wars which have lasted more than a decade, we're all about to meet more veterans. I think of college students. When I first started working at my current school, we had one or two veterans attending. I suspect the reasons are many, but the main one was that most people eligible for VA benefits had already finished their schooling, while younger military folks were off fighting. Now, as more soldiers come home, we're seeing those numbers increase.


I have some older, Baby Boomer friends who are anti-military in ways that make me think they've never met many military folks. I understand their Vietnam War era issues, but their world view seems a bit narrow to me.

Of course, my world view is shaped by my experience as the daughter of an Air Force officer. My dad had finished his active duty by my early childhood years, but he continued to serve in the Reserves until he retired.

In some ways, we were lucky, since he wasn't wounded in the many ways that others who served in the Vietnam War would be. He joined the Air Force because he knew his draft number was coming up, and he didn't want to be drafted into the Army. I remember the shock I felt when he told me that fact. I always thought he had joined because of his patriotic feelings. And he joined fairly early in the effort, 1962 or so. I hadn't thought that the draft had been in force back then, but it was.

So, he joined the Air Force and trained to become a navigator. Along the way, he met and married my mom. They were stationed in France, the last troops to be in France before Charles de Gaulle kicked them all out. Because they were in France, they could travel all across Europe. They had a view of the world that they shared with me and my sister.

Did he really change the world by serving in France and flying missions to Asia? How can we know for sure? Perhaps the Soviets didn't invade West Germany because they knew of nearby troops. It's hard to argue that his missions to Asia brought an earlier end to the Vietnam War, since it would continue for a lot longer.

I think of one of my best high school friends who joined the Army when she needed to pay for school.  She was stationed in Germany during the last days of the Cold War.  Did she keep the world safe for democracy?  I'm biased, but I believe she did.  I'm mindful of how many veterans I know who did what they pledged to do and then returned to regular life.  I wonder how often they wonder if they made a difference.

We often do not know the impact of our work. We must do the work that is required of us, even if we're unsure of its import.  I know many military folks who believe that they have preserved peace.  I know that their belief is true in many aspects.

I'm also painfully aware of how often peace is won at the hard cost of human life.  I'm aware of the difficult acts that must be done so that those of us across oceans can sleep peacefully at night.  I'm aware of how many veterans will never sleep peacefully through the night again.

Many active duty military people and veterans have done that work that so few of us are willing to do. So few of us are aware of what they do, and today is a good day to stop and to feel some appreciation--as well as the hope that some day wars will cease and this kind of service won't be necessary.


Here's a prayer I wrote for Veteran's Day:

God of Peace, on this Veteran's Day, we beseech you to renew in us the determination to be peacemakers. On this day, we pray for all who are damaged by wars big and small. We offer a prayer of thanks for our veterans, and we offer a prayer of vision that military people across the world will find themselves with no warmaking jobs to do. We offer our hopeful prayers that you would plant in our leaders the seeds that will sprout into saplings of peace.

Prayers and Practices for Memorial Day

I have always had an uneasy relationship with Memorial Day.  My dad served in the Air Force so we were never far away from a conversation about the sacrifices others made so that we could live in freedom.  We went to memorials and statues and cemeteries.  We often made our way to Washington D.C., where it's impossible not to be aware of the sacrifices made--so many and of so many kinds--for the sake of freedom.

As I got older, I wanted to be a pacifist, and so, Memorial Day became more difficult.  I've read my history, though, and I realize how often war, even if held as the last resort, has been necessary.

It is impossible not to realize the cost of war.  There's the money, of course, and the death of soldiers.  We may forget the other costs:  the families of military members, the injured veterans, the civilians damaged in so many ways, peace of all kinds shattered.

So, on this day which has become for so many of us just an excuse to have a barbecue, let us pause to reflect and remember.  If we're safe right now, let us say a prayer of gratitude.  Let us remember that we've still got lots of military people serving in dangerous places--and even if they're not in dangerous places, a person can be hacked to death in a peacetime city like London. 

Let us remember how often the world zooms into war.  Let us pray to be preserved from those horrors.

Let us pray for nations that are involved in wars.  Let us pray for a time when we can all beat our swords into ploughshares.

We could resolve to do more than pray.  We could get involved in social justice groups that actively work to bring the world to a more peaceful place.

We could resolve that we're going to do more to support our veterans.  We could donate money to groups that care for vets.  We could make care packages.  We could write cards.

For more ideas of how to celebrate this day, here's a great article on the Living Lutheran site.

Here's a prayer I wrote for this Memorial Day:


God of comfort, on this Memorial Day, we remember those souls whom we have lost to war.  We pray for those who mourn.  We pray for military members who have died and been forgotten.  We pray for all those sites where human blood has soaked the soil.  God of Peace, on this Memorial Day, please renew in us the determination to be peacemakers.  On this Memorial Day,we offer a prayer of hope that military people across the world will find themselves with no warmaking jobs to do. We offer our pleading prayers that you would plant in our leaders the seeds that will sprout into saplings of peace.

Armistice Day: How Should Christians Celebrate?

Many of you may be saying, "Armistice Day?  I thought it was Veteran's Day?"

Yes, here in America, that's what we're celebrating today.  But before it was Veteran's Day, it was Armistice Day, the day that celebrated the signing of the Armistice that ended World War I.  In some ways, it's not a hard holiday to celebrate.  Any event that restores peace in our time is worth some sober meditation.

However, those of us who know our history may be chastened by the knowledge of what was to come.  The end of World War I planted the seeds that would blossom into World War II.  World War I brought carnage on a level never before seen--but World War II would be even worse.

Why is it so hard for humans to remain at peace?  There are whole series of books that address this question, so I won't attempt it here.  Still, today is a good day to offer extra prayers for sustained peace in our time.  World War I offers us vivid examples of the horrible consequences of the lack of peace.

Armistice Day is also a good day to offer prayers of thanks for the military people who have been willing to fight.  I want desperately to be a pacifist, but I will admit that sometimes tyrants must be dealt with forcefully.    My pessimistic side believes that violence is the only language that tyrants understand, but the 20th century has given us many examples of the peaceful overturning of despots, so I don't fully believe my pessimistic side.  Still, we often don't use the forces of non-violence in enough time, and so, force may be our only option (witness the example of Hitler).

A few years ago, I was at Mepkin Abbey on Armistice Day.  It also happened to be near All Saints Sunday, the first All Saints Day after Abbot Francis Kline had been cruelly taken early by leukemia, and the Sunday we were there was a memorial service for him. Part of one of the services was out in the monks' cemetery, and all the retreatents were invited out with the monks. I was struck by the way that the simple crosses reminded me of the French World War I cemeteries:

I took the above picture from the visitor side of the grounds, but it gives you a sense of the burial area. I turned all these images in my head and wrote a poem, "Armistice Day at the Abbey." It ends this way, by pondering the graves of monks and the role of monks:

Their graves, as unadorned as their robes,
stretch out in rows of white crosses, reminiscent
of a distant French field. We might ponder
the futility of belief in a new covenant,
when all around us old enemies clash,
or we might show up for prayer, light
a candle, and simply submit.

Here's a prayer I wrote for this Armistice Day:

God of Peace, on this Armistice Day, please renew in us the determination to be peacemakers.  On this day, we pray for all who are damaged by wars big and small.  We offer a prayer of thanks for our veterans, and we offer a prayer of hope that military people across the world will find themselves with no warmaking jobs to do.  We offer our pleading prayers that you would plant in our leaders the seeds that will sprout into saplings of peace.

We Weep for the Loss of the Peacemakers: Richard Holbrooke

When I heard the news last night that Richard Holbrooke had died, I wept. Noisy, gasping tears. I had the same reaction in 1995 when Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated. Some people weep when rock stars die, but I sob for the loss of peacemakers, who are so rare on our planet.

Most of us don't have the patience for peacemaking. It seems so much easier to declare war. We don't have to deal with all of those competing personalities and claims. We don't have to determine who is right when we declare war, because we've already declared that we are right.

Peacemakers have to listen. They have to be willing to fail and to try again. They have to wait patiently for the right moment to proceed. They have to always be alert. It's an Advent kind of profession: to declare the words of the ancient prophets (although perhaps in secular terms) and to always keep watch, to set free the captives, to comfort the oppressed, to beat swords into plowshares.

The Dayton Accords which brought peace to the former Yugoslavia were signed on this day in 1995 in Paris. I regret the loss of Richard Holbrooke for so many reasons, not the least of which is that if anyone could have brought peace to Afghanistan, it could have been him. But now it will not be him.

And so, on this Advent morning, I pray for the stars to stay in the sky, for new peacemakers to emerge from the darkness. On this feast day which celebrates the life of St. John of the Cross, I pray for freedom from whatever tiny cells hold us prisoner. During our dark nights of the soul, let us turn to God. Let us always thirst for peace--and may our thirst be quenched!