God, this is a week in which we give thanks for those who have served in our armed forces. Time and time again they have risen to the occasion–on behalf of others–to stand in the way of war and violence that foreign leaders have endeavored to inflict on the people of the United States and our neighbors around the world.
It’s easy to talk about the evils of war when we’re far away from them. It’s easy to second guess the life or death decisions that have to be made in a fraction of a second with limited information. It’s easy to talk philosophically about war and peace from the comfort of our water coolers, dining room tables, or even our pulpits.
Those conversations are important. May we never go to war without carefully examining the reasons and costs, and may it always be our absolute last resort.
We look forward with the certain hope that one day all wars will cease.
We look forward to the day that every conflict is resolved, every injury healed, every debt cancelled, every insult forgiven, and every border unnecessary.
We ask you to hasten that day, Lord Almighty, yet we know the darkness persists, our brokenness persists–our evil persists.
With selfless sacrifice many of our friends and relatives–some who are in this room today–have stepped into the darkest parts of the darkness, the most broken parts of our brokenness, and the most diabolical parts of our evil to push back against them and do what they can to minimize the damage they might otherwise do to us all.
They have stood in its way with imperfect resources, imperfect information, and imperfect preparation; yet they step into them with endurance, resolve, unity, and nobility sharpened by repeatedly facing the evil together. Their return home is cause for joy and thanksgiving.
Yet in the midst of the joy and thanksgiving, their return is a cause for care above all. They have physical injuries that can heal, but no one faces our darkest darkness and most broken brokenness and emerge with their soul unscathed. They have seen things they cannot unsee, heard things they cannot unhear, done things they cannot undo, and lost people they cannot get back.
Even the person they were before becoming a soldier can, in many ways, feel replaced by someone else. They return home nervously hoping that this injured replacement of themselves will be able to pretend convincingly enough that they are the same person they were, so that they will be loved by their family and friends as much as the original. God, their return is a cause for care above all.
So as we give thanks for the selflessness and sacrifices made by those who have stood in war’s way so that those back home may know peace, may we remember that those who did so return changed by it. God, please help us to love them the way they need us to.
Just as in Jesus you stepped into this world to become Immanuel–God with us–may we do likewise, and step into the lives of these veterans with love and care, remembering that even the darkest darkness, the most broken brokenness, and the most diabolical evil are no match for the love of God poured out through the church of Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
