On Honoring Our Veterans

 

July 24, 2011 [Sunday],

Dear Fellow Travelers,

          If what I am about to say has anything to do with theology, I don’t know what it is, but not to worry, as something will probably surface.

          Anyway, on Friday I attended the funeral service for a 93 year old veteran. It was held at the Veteran’s cemetery in a not-so-far-away town, with full military honors. If you have never experienced one of these services you should. It will make you proud to be an American. Well, that used to be the case. In many ways still will, so read the obituaries, locate a notice for a military person, call the funeral home and ask if this funeral will have full military honors, and make you plans to attend. I am sure the family will be happy to see you, although one or two of them might ask you if you are related to the deceased. Just tell you that you are a distant cousin, and all will be well.

          Now, as I tell you what I am about to tell you, please keep in mind that this deceased had fought in two wars and had, therefore, definitely earned our respect, as well as his small space in this cemetery. 

Just for the record: When his wife dies, she will be buried on top of him to save space. I guess we are running out of land. Maybe we should open more cemeteries in Wyoming and Montana. They tell me they have lots of open land in those states. Hopefully, this cemetery will do a better job of keeping track of who is buried where than Arlington National Cemetery has done. No one will ever know who is buried in many of those graves. I suppose one could say that this is another example of the efficiency of the US Government.

          Like most of these cemeteries, there is a designated place for the service; consequently, it is held there and nowhere else—period. Don’t even bother to ask. If you should, you will hear get an ear full. If you think you are going to have the service at the graveside, think again because you are not—period. In fact, you are not even going to the gravesite, so don’t ask. You will be allowed to visit it after your loved one’s remains have been placed in it and the grave closed, but not a minute before. The cemetery police will be watching, so don’t even dare to chance it.

          Interestingly, this cemetery had only one service that day, so I don’t think there was any reason for a hurried service, but we must remember that government rules cannot be broken—period—and this is certainly true at this cemetery. 

I noticed that some of the cars had tags from very distant places, so I assumed they came, willing and happy, to take whatever time it took to honor this veteran. It was obvious that none of them were in any hurry. I am absolutely certain that most of them came expecting to go to the gravesite for the committal service. I am that certain because I heard them express their desire, rather vehemently. Remember, however, that the government (state, in this case) was involved. 

Now listen up: I heard with my own ears the Director of the cemetery tell the two preachers that the entire service could last only fifteen minutes—music, preaching, praying, everything. I also saw the color of their faces turn from pale pink to bright red. From what I could read in their eyes (remember, I am a preacher!), they both were scrambling mentally, trying to compress thirty minutes into seven and a half. There was no music.

The deceased man’s wife entered this “sacred” hall quite upset, not only because of the brevity of the service, but especially because she could not have the committal service at the graveside.

Now for the clincher: I arrived a bit early (nothing unusual for me), and as I talked with the Director of the cemetery, I asked why there were so few chairs for the family and friends. I will never forget his answer: We don’t want to scratch these floors. I looked down and I will admit that the floors were beautiful hardwood, but I wondered why they weren’t granite or marble or sawdust—anything that would allow for enough chairs for the family and friends of this veteran, whom we were honoring, to be seated.

Then to top it all off, taps was played on some kind of tape player or CD that the Director controlled with what looked like the remote control for a model airplane. Whatever happened to the real, live bugler? Have they all died? Did they have to “listen” to one of the taped travesties at their funeral service?

The Honor Guard was stationed outside this building (a good thing!), so no one had any idea they were even on the grounds. The preacher concluded with a prayer and, without anyone knowing it, the cemetery Director gave a signal to the senior office of the Honor Guard. That’s right. You guessed it—a twenty one gun salute! Some of those unsuspecting folk thought the Iranian army had just invaded the cemetery. There were no bathrooms in this “sacred” hall, so you will have to use your imagination. 

This is my question, and I am very serious: Don’t our veterans deserve better than this? This is another question: Is there anything the government cannot ruin?

I told this story to my congregation this morning and our worship leader, who is a trumpeter, offered his services for taps, the next time I see the need for a bugler, which I considered a noble and patriotic gesture. The problem is that the government does not see any need for buglers, certainly not while we have tapes and CD’s on hand. Why? You guessed it, I am certain.

 Well, maybe this had nothing to do with theology after all.

This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He has sent" (John 6:29 NASB).