Faith Works 11-10-18

Faith Works 11-10-18

Jeff Gill

 

Remembrance Day, and the meaning of "as to"
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Today, November 10, has a number of meaningful associations for me, and I'd love to write about Martin Luther's or the Marine Corps' birthdays (and have, and no doubt will). But it's tomorrow that calls to me this year, 100 years since 1918 and "the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month."

 

In the Commonwealth of Nations, the former British Empire countries observe on November 11 "Remembrance Day" and you'll see on TV and hear about poppies and Flanders Fields as we do every year if you're attuned to such things.

 

In America, we once called it "Armistice Day," recalling the end of World War I at 11:00 am on Nov. 11^th, 1918; after learning the harsh lessons of World War II that the first world war was not "the war to end all war" we adapted the observance into Veterans Day, which it still is (but observed on a federal basis on Monday).

 

Across Europe, the wound of World War I not only was left unhealed to fester into the outbreak of the second world war in September of 1939, it left marks to the present day. I believe the impact of World War I still has an impression on us today, even if it has become a brief pause for modern educational instruction in history, as we hurtle from the Civil War to Pearl Harbor.

 

World War I was four years in length, and militarized some 70 million persons around the globe; barely a generation later World War II lasted six years, and mobilized over 100 million . . . and in each war the dead, soldier and civilian, were nearly uncountable, but in the tens of millions for each conflict.

 

So many were left missing, or unrecognizable, that World War I began the idea, first in Great Britain and Westminster Abbey, of a "Tomb of the Unknown Soldier." It was World War I and its call to service and sacrifice that brought flags into many church worship centers where before this was mostly unknown; World War I began a series of steps into the militarization of civilian life whose scope is still being unpacked and understood. "Preachers Present Arms" by Ray Abrams is still a useful guide to these changes, all beginning with the American entry into the war in 1917.

 

So I understand the desire on the part of many preachers and theologians and leaders in more recent decades to push back against a militarization of the faith of the Prince of Peace. As someone who chose to serve, I also respect the reality that pacifism is a choice many Christians have made as their response to their faith in Jesus.

 

But I have struggled with some of the wholesale rejection of any language that even hints at struggle, or battle, or warfare as essentially un-Christian. And having grown up with "Onward, Christian Soldiers" I missed it as I entered into ministry, finding that more recent hymnals of many traditions have banished it.

 

Where I would point is to a pair of words: "as to." As in, "Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war . . ." Sabine Baring-Gould was writing a processional for children to keep together as they marched in a body across a bridge from one parish he served to another, in a peaceful 1865 England, and Arthur Sullivan, he of "Gilbert & Sullivan" fame, came up with a better tune in 1871 that lifted hearts in Great Britain and quickly around the world. It not only became an anthem for World War I, it was a favorite of Winston Churchill's during World War II, lifting his spirits and something he asked to have played at his funeral.

 

"As to" states that while earthly warfare is a reality we know, it is not an ultimate reality. There are struggles ahead, both personal and spiritual, but the cross of Christ is our symbol of triumph, and the victory we are moving towards is beyond any one battle in this life.

 

The closing verse says it well: "Onward then, ye people; Join our happy throng; Blend with ours your voices; In the triumph song." It is to that end we will in worship at my church be singing this joyful hymn, with a chastened understanding of the evils of war we would leave behind, as we go onward.

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County; he hopes if you have bells you can ring or toll them for two minutes at 11:00 am tomorrow to mark the end of World War I. Tell him about what leads you onward at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.