My Dad was married with two children under four when the United States entered World War II. Like most men in his generation, that war, combined with the preceding Great Depression, shaped much of his life. Unlike most of his generation, however, he did not go to war. He worked at Caterpillar Tractor Company, which meant he received a II-B draft deferment: "deferred in support of war production (War Industry Occupation)." What I did not know until Dad was in his late 80's was that he had felt guilty all his life because he didn't fight in the war. He mentioned that to me one day when he shared that he was talking over lunch with a group of other men at the retirement home where he then lived. He said that they were talking about their war experiences, and he told me then that he mentioned in their conversation the feeling of guilt he had carried all his life. I asked how his friends responded to him. He said they all paused for a moment, and then one man said, "Well, Jerry, during the next war you go. I'll stay home. I won't feel guilty at all." Then they all chuckled. That one statement somehow released Dad from his guilt about not having been in the military.
Like many of the men in my generation, I carry some conflicted feelings about the draft and war and military service. For us, the war was Vietnam. Of course the nation ultimately became conflicted about that war, but for us men - whether we served in the military or not (I didn't) - our feelings about the military were at best ambiguous. I confess that I still carry those feelings, and they come to a head every November 11: Veterans' Day. I unreservedly respect those who are, and who have been, in the military. Wherever they have served, they dedicated a portion of their lives to serve our nation. I am grateful to them. Plus I've seen the positive results many have experienced from their military service; both my brothers-in-law and two of my nephews learned skills that defined their entire civilian employment careers. For me, however, the ambiguity I still feel comes from that old "WWJD" question for myself... Would Jesus have served in our, our any nation’s, military? For the first 300 years of Church history, military service was discouraged, if not prohibited. But for the past 1800 years, most of the Church removed obstacles to serving. The only exceptions have been the traditional "peace" Churches: Mennonites and Amish, Church of the Brethren, Friends (Quakers).
I met Hugh Hollowell at a conference at Stony Point this past Spring. Hugh is a committed and passionate worker for social justice, a Mennonite pastor, and a prolific and insightful blogger. (You can read some of his blogging efforts here: http://tinyletter.com/hughlh/archive.) For the past few years, Hugh has served as the Director of Love Wins Ministries, an organization providing pastoral care and presence to the homeless in Raleigh, NC. What surprised me about Hugh was that he also was in the Marine Corps. On his Facebook page, Hugh wrote this on November 10, the 240th birthday of the USMC:
"It seems hard for folks to wrap their mind around a committed justice worker who works to aggressively wage peace in the world having served as a United States Marine. And I get asked a lot if I regret it.
"On one level, the story is simple: I was a poor kid in rural Mississippi who wanted to go to school, and they told me that if I would let them teach me how to kill people, they would pay for me to do that. If I survived.
"I did, and they did.
"But the reality is, I could have done that, with a lot less risk, with the Navy or the Air Force.
"What the Marines gave to this socially awkward nerd of a kid that I had never had before was pride. The pride of being special, of knowing I was one of the best in the world at something. Of being desired. Of having a code to live by. Of knowing I had done this really hard thing, and survived when others didn't.
"They taught me to lead people, and to take care of the people entrusted to me. They taught me that leaders eat last, and that success has everything to do with how much you prepare and train.
"It wasn't that they taught me to be a Marine. They taught me to be me. And to own that I was who I was, and that I was damn good at being me, and that was OK. Maybe I could have learned that in the Boy Scouts or the Peace Corp or The Salvation Army - I don't know. But I do know I learned it from The Marines.
"And for that, I owe them everything."
What Hugh's words remind me is about a truism in the Christian life. Many things come our way. Some we choose, others we don't. What matters is what we make of our circumstances... what we make of ourselves, by God's grace. And his words remind me of the truth of St. Paul's words to the Church in Rome - and the Church here and now: "We know that God works ALL things together for good for the ones who love God, for those who are called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28, Common English Bible) It doesn't say that all things that happen to us are good, nor even caused by God, but simply that God can bring good out of everything. We get to partner with the Almighty in how we choose to live and what we choose to make of ourselves. All of this has been good for me to remember, and helps me continue to reflect on what I make of my own life.
And one more learning about this for me... I don't get to judge what happens to other people or how they respond to what happens. I just am responsible for myself and my own journey with God.
Blessings and peace,
Steve Plank
