Growing up, Memorial Day carried a host of very special, very personal associations. It was a day for a family picnic on the shores of the Scioto River. A day for churning homemade ice cream on the back porch with my dad. A day for listening to the Indianapolis 500 on the radio. A day to excitedly anticipate the last day of school. 

It was also a day for noticing the large number of American flags being flown around town.

Somehow, strangely, it was not a day on which I gave much thought to the reason for the holiday. That is, a day to remember and express gratitude for men and women who have died in service to their country. I can’t say whether my Memorial Day tone-deafness had more to do with our family’s lack of a personal example of military sacrifice, or my adolescent self-absorption. 

I may simply have preferred not to trouble my 12-year-old brain with concepts like death, sacrifice, patriotism, and honor. 

Thankfully, that aversion is no longer part of my adult way of thinking. Unless, of course, we are talking about sacrificein the truest sense of that word. That one burns a little. According to the OED, sacrifice is, “… an act of giving up something valued for the sake of something else regarded as more important or worthy.” Think about that; if I truly VALUE something, why would I voluntarily give it up? Wouldn’t I want to do everything in my power to hang on to it? 

Unless, of course, the thing I get back in return is even MORE valuable! In that case, count me IN!

I kid, of course. But I don’t feel it is too outlandish to suggest that the concept of sacrifice has become a bit anachronistic these days. Americans are part of a “do it yourself” culture. We have bought the lie that tells us freedom equals impulse; being led around by the nose by every personal whim that crosses our radar screen. Our culture lives by the “if it feels good, do it, if it feels the least bit uncomfortable, avoid it” ethos. We want the God who endorses the bespoke set of ethics we have stumbled into… partly inherited from families, partly absorbed from friends, and all of it amplified by social media algorithms. 

We don’t want the God that speaks from the burning bush and sends us on impossible missions. That One is way too intense. Give us the God of comfort and familiarity any day. Save us from any situation where our practices and beliefs might be subjected to any kind of scrutiny. 

We believe we stand at the center of the universe and we chafe at the notion of any objective standard of morality that might shed light on our waywardness. We are like the morbidly obese person who goes to the doctor complaining about knee and back and heart problems and then rebels when that trained professional suggests they might consider losing a little weight. “How dare you!” we sputter. “That’s just your opinion.” And we sure as heck don’t like the part in the Bible where Jesus tells his disciples, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13, NRSV). “No thanks,” we reply. “I think I’ll hang on to this life and go for all the gusto I can.”

Today I thank God for the men and women who were not cut from that self-absorbed cloth. Thank God for the ones who followed the higher calling. Who demoted their own agendas and willingly laid down their lives for the rest of us. 

Without them, none of us would be here to celebrate.

Abundant blessings;