why I don't observe "Memorial Day"

Yesterday was Memorial Day in America, the day we remember those who have died in our wars.  And as you expect on days like Memorial Day there's lots on social media expressing gratitude for those who gave their lives in service to America, making the "ultimate sacrifice" as we say.  Many of these expressions of gratitude are very personal, people sharing pictures of parents or grandparents.  On days like Memorial Day I think of all my ancestors who fought in various and sundry wars -- from Korea all the way back to the English Civil War.

One of the things I wonder about every year is why the Church doesn't make more of its "memorial day" -- also known as "All Saints' Day".

Thing is, I'd love something more interdenominational.  Because, let's be honest, Protestants are lack here.  (Catholic friend will be quick to jump in and shout, "Of course you're lacking.  You've cut off yourself and schismed the Church.)  Our Protestant martyrological legacy, at least since the Anabaptists, hasn't been all that noticed.  (I think here of that wonderful book, Foxe's Book of Martyrs.)

So it's hardly a mistake that the peace traditions -- particularly those that grow out of Anabaptism -- still maintain martyrs' stories.  Peace and martyrs' stories go hand in hand for Christians.

I bring all this up because I think it's important for the Church to have her own Memorial Day or Martyr's Day.  To borrow from Paul Tillich, religion is about ultimate things.  And by and large we can recognize these ultimate things by following the blood.  Blood consecrates and hallows.  Blood makes things sacred.  Blood tells you what is most and ultimately important.  That for which you're willing to die is that which you inevitably hold as sacred.

So as flags were raised across America yesterday we created a sacred, hallowed time.  A collective experience of worship.  A national worship service.

Memorial Day is a national liturgy that shaped and directed our love toward that which is most sacred and holy in our lives.  Our god will always be standing in a pool of blood.  Because the pool of blood tells you what you're willing to die for, to bleed for, where your ultimate allegiance is located.

Follow the blood of Memorial Day and you'll quickly see what we Americans worship.

For most Christians in America, that worship involves violence, war, death.  Because, let's be honest, the nation for which these men and women die is held sacrosanct.  (This is why the real god America tends to worship looks more like Mars than the God and Father of Jesus Christ.)

That's why I don't celebrate Memorial Day.

At least not until the Church has its own Memorial Day.  The only pool of blood in which I'm willing to rejoice is the blood of the cross.  And on that cross, all Jesus can rejoice in is the forgiveness of his enemies. 

Until the American Memorial Day has more to do with penitence for the death we have wielded, and offer forgiveness to our enemies, it's not a day I'll observe.