The idea pervades our nation mythos about Memorial Day: These "sainted dead" soldiers "gave their lives" as a sacrifice for "our freedom". And we often hear this in connection to Jesus' sacrifice. "Greater love has no one than that they lay down a life for a friend." Or, in the more blatant bumper sticker that I see on occasion:
Thing is, at least from the perspective of the New Testament, that's a false analogy. Or, to put the terms more starkly: It's a lie.
Jesus made the final sacrifice for all. No other "sacrifice" -- even that of an American solider -- can come close to offering the freedom of the cross. "For by the death of Christ we are set free ..." (Ephesians 1.7).
At issue here is what we mean by freedom.
Stopping folks on the street, if I asked, "What is freedom?", I'm pretty sure of get a standard answer: "It's the ability to do anything you want without anyone stopping you".
In ethics classes, I always ask that question. And nearly without exception, I always get the same response.
Thing is, all you have to do is poke at that response for a minute to see why it won't work. What about stealing? Or murder? Or rape? Freedom, most people seem to think, is the ability to do whatever you want so long as nobody gets hurt.
But does that freedom exist?
We Americans are frail and morally weak, but we're not, in toto, an intentionally bad group. But we can't seem to stop hurting one another.
Because, as any honest look at our history shows, we're not a very happy bunch. Just read Howard Zinn's People's History of the United States.
No, on Memorial Day, it's not enough to talk about a soldier's sacrifice that gives us freedom. Whose freedom? What kind of sacrifice?
Are we free?
That's just not a strong enough question. For for what?
There's the question that matters. Free for what?
It's the question that moves from American indifference to freedom's telos, goal, purpose.
Freedom is a tough commodity these days. Fewer of us feel free, under the burdens of economics and politics. Not only do we lack a common morality (Alasdair MacIntyre's After Virtue). We lack a common goal. Morality is seen as a series of trade-offs, a bunch of deals with the devil in order to get something good accomplished. We feel trapped. If I named the zeitgeist, it would be slavery -- slavery to our own directionlessness, floundering, inability to see beyond our own noses.
That's the real crux -- cross! -- of freedom. Freedom needs a goal, a purpose. Free for what?
On days like Memorial Day, folks always ask me about Romans 13: "Therefore, it is necessary to submit to the authorities, not only because of possible punishment but also because of conscience". Sure the sword God gives governments in Romans 13 means acknowledging the sacrifice of soldiers?
But does it?
Understanding whatever Paul means in Romans 13, requires we read Romans 12 first: Do good to your enemy and overcome evil with good.
Or, as I put it to folks who use the logic of Romans 13 to argue against my Christian pacifist critique of Memorial Day: Just as many Deutsche Christen used Romans 13 to prop up allegiance to the Nazi Führerprinzip as American Christians who argued for war in World War II.
I've spent my academic career reading Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
And while American evangelicals love his Discipleship for its call to radical following of Jesus, they're never quite sure what to make of his Christian pacifist claims in the book.
Bonhoeffer came to Union Theological Seminary in New York and came into contact with Jean Lasserre, a Huguenot and a pacifist -- pretty out of character for a Calvinist. Lasserre argued for pacifism on a scriptural basis and Bonhoeffer was very much influenced by him. For Lassere, pacifism had to be based on the Decalogue (Exodus 20; Deuteronomy 5). Bonhoeffer, though, in reading Jesus' Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7; Luke 6), developed the notion that nonviolence for Christians wasn't something you might consider after accepting Jesus as your Lord. It was something that was inescapable once you accept Jesus as Lord.
Of course, inevitably folks respond that Bonhoeffer was ultimately imprisioned and killed for leaving behind that nonviolence and participating in the attempts to assassinate Hitler. "Doesn't that mean Bonhoeffer became a realist?"
I'm not sure sure.
True, he joined the Abwehr, the German government intelligence agency. His contacts in England -- particularly Bishop Bell -- made him a prime person to broach the possibility of English support for a coup, if the English would agree to a conditional surrender. I believe they got as far as Anthony Eden, who insisted on unconditional surrender. That changed the course of the plot, but it's not certain what Bonhoeffer's role was.
As a member of the Abwehr, he avoided the draft. He couldn't kill. What is certain is that he'd consider killing -- even Hitler! -- a sin.
You see, I have problems with war -- any war -- precisely because, like Bonhoeffer, I follow Jesus.
And because I have problems with war, I have problems with Memorial Day.
"Surely World War II was an exception?", someone demanded of me today. "Surely, of any war, they died for your freedom?"
I'm not so sure.
World War II was not a just war, because the Allies insisted on unconditional surrender. In the Crusades, getting the Holy Land back was the goal, and any means could be used to achieve it. World War II was a crusade. The firebombing of Tokyo by Doolittle and the carpet bombing in Germany, especially by the British, showed that. Those actions were also not in keeping with just-war theory, since they involved the intentional killing of civilians.
Whose freedom?
Just mine? That's hardly a Christian ideal.
No, the only sacrifice that frees me up for the real goal of freedom -- to love and to be loved -- isn't the sacrifice of a soldier. It's the sacrifice of Jesus.