c27Pentecost 24 ~ November 11, 2007 ~ A sermon preached by The Rev’d Erl G. Purnell at Old St. Andrew’s Church, Bloomfield, CT
Job 19.23-27a; Psalm 17; 2 Thessalonians 2.13-3.5; Luke 20.27-38
In my All Saints Day sermon last Sunday, I spoke from my heart about my grandfather, Erl Gould, who I called Grandfeathers because he was the 68th Naval Aviator. Grandfeathers died in 1968 at the age of 73. By way of concluding, I said, “And so, in those wee hours, occasionally I’ll drop into a semi-sleep, and sometimes, sometimes Grandfeathers will become animated and alive again. We’re always the same age, young men, young aviators, friends. We’re present to each other in the mystical body of the saints in light. There’s always comfort there and my loss these many years since his death gets pulled away in the slipstream between the wind-whistling wings of the Mary Anne … or is it the downwash of my Seasprite helicopter’s rotor blades?”
Grandfeathers’ World War I experiences as a pioneer Naval Aviator were the foundation of his life. Likewise, those of his friends and fellow aviators from Yale. These magnificent men in their flying machines had adventures shared aloft by only a very few who “slipped the surly bonds of earth and danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.” These men went full throttle and climbed into life, into their maturity and adulthood during that War. And later, many, including Grandfeathers, were recalled to active service by FDR early in 1940. They served gallantly in that second world war, too. He and his classmates, who shared his early training in 1916 and 1917, became extraordinary leaders of our nation in myriad ways. Grandfeathers, for example, retired as a Rear Admiral.
Telling you about the life-long accomplishments of members of the 1st Yale Unit would make you breathless. But that’s not my focus this morning. Rather, on this Veterans’ Day 2007, I want to mention Kenny MacLeish #74, Al Sturtevant #77, James Oliver #80, and Curt Read #83. You see, these five members of the 1st Yale Unit died in fiery crashes or were lost at sea during the Great War. They gave up the promise of life for the cause of liberty.
As an adult, I came to know about Grandfeathers’ best friend at Yale, Curt Read, and the others who died fighting for something so much bigger than aero planes or trenches or tanks or U-boats. The brave who fought and died in that horrible-war-of-all-horrible-wars deserve memory and honor. They deserve our silent homage because so many of them met their eternal silence in the service of God, country, and Yale.
When I was a boy growing up in Ligonier, Pennsylvania in the 1950s, at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, my entire grade school would gather in the auditorium. Peter Messer, the headmaster, would say a few solemn words and ask that we remember those who had died in that war-to-end-all-wars, and the two that had followed—World War II and Korea. Then, all of us—kindergarteners through eighth graders—would stand stark-still in dead silence for a full minute. It was a painful, long minute. I wasn’t at all sure that I had anything to remember from the wars Mr. Messer talked about.
In 2007, the additional 20th century wars America has been involved in include Viet Nam, Grenada, Panama, the First Gulf War, and Bosnia, enough to fill up a hand. There have other been deadly conflicts, too, like the Mayagüez incident off the coast of Cambodia in 1975, Beirut in 1988, and Somalia in 1993. Today, America is fighting in Afghanistan and is hopelessly mired in Iraq.
As an historian, it’s all too evident that much of our history has been punctuated by war. Certainly our stand against the King in 1776 was a noble cause. The preservation of the Union mid-19th century was another time when fighting—this time in a terrible civil war—sadly became necessary. Then, America was drawn into the two world wars. Our people rallied, bravely on the battlefield and sacrificially at home in the factories. Fortunately, freedom prevailed. We have our veterans and millions of ordinary citizens to thank for these victories.
With the end of WWII, this nation was propelled into super-power status and global leadership. Leadership—be it as class president in 7th grade, CEO of a corporation, a squadron commander, or as the most powerful nation in the world—is an awesome responsibility. On the one hand, global leadership requires great strength, economically, politically, and militarily. On the other, the moral component of leadership must always trump the other three.
We hear a lot about what’s in “the national interest” or “national security.” Of course, I understand what these terms mean. Of course, I care that these United States—and by that I mean the people and institutions of this country—are healthy and prosperous. I care that we are safe.
However, here I stand, as a child of God and one who is inspired by Jesus of Nazareth. I’m a citizen of God’s creation first and foremost. As providence would have it, I am extremely lucky. Some of what I mean by that is that I live in the United States. I have a wonderful job, I am free to choose the leaders of my town and country, I’m well educated, my children are healthy, I have choices—of what to put in the refrigerator and on my back, what to read, where and how to worship—and I can speak out about things I believe are important. What extraordinary blessings!
But, these days I am pained—as many of you may be—that our country is engaged in an ill-conceived war where our leadership—our moral leadership—has failed the nation and the world. Those of you who know me well know that I could speak about the details of how we got involved, what’s happened since, and what the long-term political and economic stakes are. But that is not for this forum because it’s not my point.
As that child of God and one who is inspired by Jesus of Nazareth, my concern is for the sharp turn that has been taken away from the high moral ground and into the morass of self-interest, self-preservation, self-righteousness supported by brute force.
Jesus called anybody who would listen to a new covenant with the Creator. He brought something called good news to all peoples in all nations. It’s right there in the new testament scriptures. There’s nothing about nation-building, warring, being selfish with resources in Jesus’ program. What is there are admonitions to feed the hungry, care for the poor—might that be understood in our day as providing universal health care?—to be compassionate and generous, to forgive, to demonstrate justice no matter what, and to love wastefully.
Speaking personally and specifically, leadership inspired by Jesus would eschew water-boarding or anything like it, would be passionate about repairing the planet in the face of imminent global warming, would share in the abundance of earth’s bounty with all, and would always seek reconciliation through respect, careful listening, and understanding. Enlightened leadership in the spirit of Jesus would seize upon every opportunity to be democratic (with a small “d”).
These are the tenants of moral leadership that we, as people of the Way—Jesus’ Way—are called to live by. It’s simply not possible to follow the Christ and ignore the morality taught and lived by Jesus.
Come back now to the present, to this day when we remember what so many people have done in support of the high moral ground, even though sometimes—unfortunately—it has required conflict. I speak of Kenny MacLeish, Al Sturtevant, James Oliver, Archibald Mellwaine, Curt Read, and others like them, who, through the years, have served with honor in our armed forces and died. I speak also of those who have risked their lives in military service and been fortunate enough to survive.
While you and I may agree or disagree about all that brought us to war in Iraq or with what keeps us there, we can, perhaps, agree to support those men and women who serve under orders and who serve honorably. For my part, the core of my support for today’s sailors, soldiers, and aviators is hinged to their return home and not to the perpetuation of the war, particularly under the spurious guise of supporting the troops. The troops are under orders. I pray the orders are changed. I pray that we may be forgiven for that we have done and left undone. I pray, too, for reconciliation, justice, and peace as we strive to recover the high moral ground so sacredly entrusted to us and honorably preserved by the free and the brave we remember today.
Amen.
Copyright © 2007. Erl G. Purnell
All rights reserved.
