War and tales of war
Living in San Diego and having family in Norfolk, Virginia, I probably hear more sermons that involve military life than most Americans. I thought little of it this past Sunday when a video of a naval officer’s account of war and call for church members to help those in combat and their families ran across the church televisions. But then we prayed for service women and men. And the pastor had all “retired and active” service people stand. It seemed a bit excessive. Then I realized it was Memorial Day weekend. Any complications of following a crucified Savior who never counseled bloodshed, while paying taxes to a nation-state with the world’s most powerful military, were washed away in seas of storytelling, applause, and appreciation.
War tales and memories are nothing new for churches. Nothing that happened this Memorial Day weekend was particularly jingoistic or bellicose. Rather, it was all somewhat matter-of-fact. The marriage of church and military seemed comfortable and affectionate.
It reminded me of the sermons of Gilded Age evangelist Dwight Lyman Moody. Before Billy Graham or Billy Sunday, there was Dwight Moody. Born into small-town farming life in New England, he moved to Chicago several decades before the Civil War. After a conversion experience, he became sold out for Jesus. He was known on the streets as “crazy Moody” because of his intense appeals to young men. During the Civil War, he worked as a chaplain and then traveled to Great Britain with singer-songwriter Ira Sankey for a series of revivals.
