
"The Price of Freedom, the Costs of War"
July 2, 2006: 4th Sunday After Pentecost, Year B
The Rev. John MacIver Gage, pastor
United Church on the Green, UCC: New Haven, CT
www.newlights.org
Scripture:
2 Samuel 1:1,17-27
After the death of Saul, when David had returned from defeating the Amalekites, David remained two days in Ziklag... David intoned this lamentation over Saul and his son Jonathan. (He ordered that The Song of the Bow be taught to the people of Judah; it is written in the Book of Jashar.) He said: Your glory, O Israel, lies slain upon your high places! How the mighty have fallen! Tell it not in Gath, proclaim it not in the streets of Ashkelon; or the daughters of the Philistines will rejoice, the daughters of the uncircumcised will exult. You mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew or rain upon you, nor bounteous fields! For there the shield of the mighty was defiled, the shield of Saul, anointed with oil no more. From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan did not turn back, nor the sword of Saul return empty. Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely! In life and in death they were not divided; they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions. O daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, who clothed you with crimson, in luxury, who put ornaments of gold on your apparel. How the mighty have fallen in the midst of the battle! Jonathan lies slain upon your high places. I am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan; greatly beloved were you to me; your love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women. How the mighty have fallen, and the weapons of war perished!
Sermon:
This morning's reading from Second Samuel seems a fitting one for this Independence Day weekend. It is a eulogy for King Saul and Crown Prince Jonathan, killed defending Israel against the attacks of the Philistines. It is attributed to David, who himself would soon follow them to the throne. But its praise for the fallen warriors is timeless. "Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely! In life and in death they were not divided; they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions. How the mighty have fallen in the midst of the battle!" One can imagine much the same sort of words being read over the bodies of soldiers returned from Iraq today as they are interred by grieving family members and praised by politicians for having made the "ultimate sacrifice."
But there is a twist to this reading that I want to lift up for you this morning. We must remember that when David gave this speech, he was not yet King in Israel. He was not a general in the army, nor a politician in the government. Despite having been anointed by the prophet Samuel, despite his loving relationship with Saul's son, Jonathan, David was the leader of the opposition, a renegade and official enemy of the state after falling out of favor with the King. He and his men spent years hiding out in the hill country of Judah, harassing the Israeli regulars and taunting Saul, before David eventually crossed over into the service of a Philistine nobleman named Achish. No, David was no booster of the party line; in fact, he stretched the very definition of "loyal opposition." He actively campaigned for the overthrow of what he believed to be a capricious and unjust government.
And yet David mourned the deaths of Saul and Jonathan, the "glory of Israel." He praised their bravery and their skill and their desire to defend their country. "O daughters of Israel, weep over Saul," he intones. "How the mighty have fallen, and the weapons of war perished!" David knew better than most the price of freedom, having lived in exile, persecuted by an unjust government, but here he acknowledges the costs of war in death and destruction on all sides.
This Independence Day weekend, I wonder if we can do the same? As our politicians will no doubt remind us in speeches surrounded by fanfare and fireworks, "freedom is not free." And that's true. Some talk about the costs of war as President Bush did in his Memorial Day weekend radio address, in terms of the willing sacrifice being made by American service personnel in dedication to the "noble cause" of Iraq, men and women who have "given their lives for freedom, liberated the oppressed, and left the world a safer and better place." Often liberals like me will talk about those costs in terms of loss of liberty at home, as through the Patriot Act or domestic spying, and the loss of billions of dollars of resources that could be used, we believe, to better effect, say for disaster relief or social welfare. We talk about the cost to the United States' reputation in the international community as we continue to prosecute this wildly unpopular and possibly illegal war. We talk also about the damage being done to the nation and people of Iraq in the name of freedom as now, years after the fall of Saddam Hussein, violence rages.
I wonder, though, if, like David, we can walk a line somewhere between these two high-minded ideologies and recognize that the costs of this war, whether noble or ignoble, are being paid by soldiers who are neither superheroes of truth, justice, and the American way nor devils of the military-industrial complex, but the ordinary, everyday fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, sons and daughters of our nation who in order to get an education, pay their bills, and put food on their family's table, have been thrust into circumstances that will cause them irreparable damage. Many will die, as many have—2,537 as of this morning. And many many more will be injured. That number is closer to 18,000 today, many of those enduring the serious brain injuries and amputations that are the hallmark of being caught between body armor and improvised explosive devices.
But what of those who return, seemingly uninjured? Do they not also bear the costs of war and the scars of war in their lives? What must we do to these young people—and they are overwhelmingly young—to turn them into soldiers, and what must they do to themselves to survive? They must learn to follow orders without question in order to protect their comrades in arms. They must learn to silence all doubt as to the nobility of the cause in order to put one foot in front of another. They must dehumanize their enemy and suppress their own humanity in order to able to kill on our behalf. This is the sacrifice of our soldiers, not just the "ultimate sacrifice" of losing their lives, but of losing themselves in the process of surviving.
Back in August of 2005, and on many occasions since, President Bush has said the best way to honor those who "have given their lives for a cause that is just and necessary for the security of our country," is by staying the course and "completing their mission." I don't know. To someone like me who believes, along with our own General Minister and President of the United Church of Christ, John Thomas, that this war was "conceived in deception, pursued in arrogance, destined to undermine the moral credibility of our nation," this sounds like an awfully circular argument. As though we should somehow honor those whom our government has sacrificed on the altar of this war for political and economic advantage under the guise of righteousness by sending in more troops.
We owe the men and women of our armed forces more than either guilt and shame for doing what they've done in our name from one side of the aisle or irrational arguments and patriotic platitudes from the other. I believe we can best honor them in three ways. First, by recognizing our on-going complicity in the war. Whether we support the war or not, it is being prosecuted in our name, the name of the United States of America, by our elected and appointed leaders. If we are opposed, we may act to end it, but until then, we bear a share of the responsibility for it. He may not be "our President," but this is still our war. We must acknowledge this. Second, by caring for the troops and supporting their families. We must be willing to face the damage they have sustained while doing this terrible job for us. We must ensure for the survivors the very best medical care possible, both physical and mental, to help them heal and return to a meaningful, productive, and healthy civilian life. And we must demand that we be allowed to see the returning coffins of those who die in the line of duty. We owe them that much.
And third, if we really want to honor their sacrifice, we must work to end this war and all wars and bring about a lasting peace. To ask that countless men and women give their lives in pursuit of peace may, in fact, be honorable. But to use their deaths to grease the wheels of a military-industrial complex designed not to foster peace but to fill corporate and individual coffers and then ask for more and more and more is immoral. If we care for these soldiers who have given their lives, their health, their wholeness for the dream of peace, and for their families, we must bring them home soon, swiftly. And we must work to create new ways of relating as people and nations which will ensure that future generations will not have to pay so high a price for freedom.
This morning, I stand with David in the loyal opposition and mourn the loss of our young people in the armed forces, the glory of our United States, and those of Iraq, and of every nation engaged in this war and wars everywhere, who lie slain upon the high places and in the deserts and in the cities. They were swifter than eagles and stronger than lions! O how the mighty have fallen! But to his, I add my own prayer, that the weapons of war might perish with them for once and for all, in this generation, and peace spring up in their place.