Going On Before

I wore my black dress to church yesterday. Even though it was Memorial Day Sunday.  I have a red one. I expected that most of the church would be sporting shades of red, white, and blue...but I just couldn't do it. Home from the Theology of Peace conference in Maryland, I had idly picked up the grocery circulars to figure out what we'd eat for the coming week at the least cost, only to be confronted with red, white, and blue ads for the family barbecue for the holiday weekend.  I had to put them down and take a break, to figure out why I found them so repulsive.  What I discovered was that they reminded me of a phrase I'd heard on Law and Order: Special Victims Unit- "depraved indifference".  I'd never heard the term before SVU. Maybe all states have such laws on their books, but if mine does, I'm not aware of it. The phrase captures a bizarre reality, the fact that it's possible to be so indifferent, so unaffected by another persons plight, that what began as indifference crosses a line into depravity. The masquerade of neutrality is revealed as evil.  The cheery family oriented "buy more here" hype of the ads was offensive precisely because of the indifference to the source of the holiday.  Memorial Day did not originate as a feel good family cook-out.

As I worked on my sermon I realized (again!) that I was not going to be able to avoid Memorial Day. I was working from Matt.9:35-10:23, making an analogy between our military armies and the "marching orders" Jesus gave his disciples. Realizing that everyone in my church had grown up singing "Onward Christian Soldiers", I drew on that to highlight the contrast between Jesus "army" who are sent out to heal the sick, raise the dead, and cast out demons, and our military armies who are sent out primarily to engage in violence. His description of how the disciples will be treated because of him is pretty much an exact parallel of the response to any invading army; those invaded respond with violence and death.  There's not too much difference in the reception the army gets, regardless of whether it's disciples of Jesus or the military arm of the latest empire; either way, the world fights back.  This gave me a wonderful opportunity to explore why the world finds the peace of Jesus so frightening, and to wonder aloud about the church's collusion as an institution in world culture. 

What it all came back to was the cross of Christ "going on before".  Our church has an empty cross as it's focal point.  Was it truly empty, or were we tempted to fill it from time to time? Why do we feel compelled to honor our dead soldiers?  The ancients didn't.  A particularly valiant soldier might be memorialized in legend or song, but our modern American practice of documenting every one had yet to be developed.  Are we blinding ourselves to reality as we read the Honor Rolls or are we really remembering it?  We understand our empty cross to be empty for a reason; it is empty because Jesus' death was "once, for all." As he told them when he healed the severed ear of the high priest's servant, "No more of this!" (Luke 22:51)

I'm sure that one  reason we feel a desire to remember our dead by name is because of Jesus. His death exposes our human violence; he puts a name and a face and a full humanity on our sacrificial victims. We cannot pretend that "cannon fodder" is faceless any longer, whether it is our own or our enemies.  In exposing human violence, Jesus also exposes the love of God; it is a package deal. We see the cross of Christ, we hear his words in the gospel, and we recognize the call to peace .  How do we observe Memorial Day in such a way that it speaks to peace?

 As I looked out over the congregation, I was deeply surprised to find only one person sporting the patriotic red, white, and blue that had decorated the church on many a previous Memorial Day. There were a few touches of red, but interestingly, they were paired primarily with black. There was a lot of black and white and charcoal gray and blue. One woman stood out from the crowd in springtime pastels, saying she'd just figured it was time for a little sign of new life.  There was also a conspicuous absence of flags.  Feeling a bit like Prof. Higgins (My Fair Lady) I looked at the church and thought, "My God! I think they've got it!"  Since I had chosen to wear my black dress (not customary Sunday attire), I knew that I also presented a different visual image as I preached in front of the cross.  Remarking on the appropriate lack of national color, I introduced the church to the Women In Black.  This is not a community that had ever heard of this movement of peaceful anti-war demonstration by women around the world before. And although it is a simple thing and a superficial thing, it is an entirely feasible way of speaking peace to our grief and pain over all the wars we've fought in the name of God and the slain who were sacrificed for our fear.  The reality of grief instead of the glory of war is what we see in the light of the cross.

Perhaps we should all consider wearing black on Memorial Day. Maybe even wearing a little black to the barbecue....because after all, rituals that affirm life are vital, even if they look like a back-yard cook-out.  No matter where we are today, we need to take the time to face our fear, our shame, and our grief- to face the reality of the black- and instead of offering thanks for the bravery of the dead, say with Jesus, "No more of this."

nancy hitt

Comments

[PamBG]

Thanks for another thoughtful post, Nancy. In the UK, 'Remembrance Day' (the 11th of November) is celebrated in church and I find this a particularly difficult occasion.

(On a lighter note, I read blogs through a feed which always announces 'Preaching Peace by Michael Hardin'. That was followed by the first line of this post: 'I wore my black dress to church yesterday'. Which I expect might have shocked the congregation even more.

Shalom.

[nancy hitt]

Oh Pam! Thank you for making me giggle into my morning tea! Picturing Michael in "my black dress" was an unexpected and delightful absurdity simply because it's so unlike him. I realize that what I wear to preach in may be an unusual element for a lot of pastors to even think about if they're accustomed to donning liturgical garb of some sort- or even if the men simply wear a suit and tie. I do usually wear a white robe, (I don't appreciate the fashion statement that is otherwise part of congregational life if I don't) so choosing to not to cover my black dress for the service was already making a statement even before I opened my mouth. Now all I have to do is survive our 4th of July/Independence Day madness, and I'll be done for another year!

[John Mann]

Nancy, thanks for a thoughtful word.

[michael hardin]

I think there was a song "(S)He was a long cool (wo)man in a black dress..." or something like that! LOL.