Each Memorial Day we are asked to remember those who gave the last full measure of devotion in the fight for American liberty, or perhaps less inspiring, for the advancement of American interests, or even less inspiring, in the fight to establish universal, national democracies. But, whatever the cause may have been, we still sense the sadness of heart shared by the friends and relatives of those who were laid down in these struggles.

“In Flanders’ fields the poppies blow, between the crosses row on row…” runs the unforgettable thought in the famous poem from World War I (full poem here). A great poem captures a wide plain of thought with a modicum of beautifully selected words. It helps us remember that which so easily slips into the passages of time and history and into the world of the dead. Those who fought the fights become faded in our minds, become photographs stored in boxes, and eventually, we ask if a name might be written on the back, of that man in a uniform? Was that my fathers’ brother? Or was it the friend that dragged him from the field? We place flowers in memory of the brave that they may not be only another man who walked, and breathed, and distant now, is shadowed in the hastening mist. For, it is these recurring thoughts that assure us we travel rightly. Those standing stones draw us to consider how our names may also be engraved in actions worthy of a mighty cause.

When Israel crossed the Jordan on dry ground the Lord instructed them to take up twelve stones on their shoulders. They were to stack them in Gilgal, on the plain of Jericho. There these stones would be a memorial to remind the nation of what God had done for them. He had saved them from their enemies, and by many miracles brought them as a fearsome army to that place. He had promised them this land and parted the waters twice that they could safely cross. Now they stood on the eastern edge of the land God had promised to Abraham and his progeny. The stones they stacked were dedicated to the memory of their living God and all He had done. These were stones of remembrance, but not dedicated to recalling the dead. Rather, they were stacked to remember the living actions of a living God.

This stacking of the stones had a generational aspect to it. They were told,

When your children ask their fathers in time to come, saying ‘What are these stones?’ then you shall inform your children, saying ‘Israel crossed this Jordan on dry ground.’ For the Lord your God dried up the waters of the Jordan before you until you had crossed, just as the Lord your God had done to the Red Sea, which He dried up before us until we had crossed; that all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the Lord is mighty, so that you may fear the Lord your God forever.

This pillar of stones was not designed to amaze at its beauty or expense. It was stood up as a conversation starter. It was placed so that future generations would remember and explain to their children the mighty deeds of God among His redeemed. He wanted the descendants of Israel to fear the Lord their God forever. This is a different sentiment than the American Memorial Day when we remember the dead. The proper Memorial Day is culturally different in that it follows Biblical thought and projects Scriptural ideals. Our memories are not to be dedicated to the amorphous dead. Rather, we are to remember, and re-tell the stories of our God and how He saved our ancestors. We are not people of the dead. We let the dead bury the dead as Jesus instructed. We, the living body of Christ, remember our God and His mighty control of history. It is His kingdom that is to inspire us to greater devotion. Our hearts beat with motivation to love and build God’s kingdom whose borders are the entire earth. If we remember our dead then let it be the martyrs who gave their lives that we might more easily find what they found. We remember the Savior who not only died, but rose from the dead, leaving behind the tombstone that sealed His grave. Ours is a living hope not a dead one.

We do not put flowers on His grave for He is the Rose of Sharon, the very Maker of the flowers. His grave is empty. We now, are the soldiers of the cross. We look forward and do as we are able, to advance His kingdom during our sojourn here. We do not shuffle among the stones of the dead. Rather, we engage men in the land of the living as a peaceful army of patriots who believe in our God and seek His eternal country, starting here on this earth. We die, but we do not die, for we are to be transformed to His very image. Nothing can deter us from our course. We are traveling the way of the cross. In our way we sow the seeds of the culture of His kingdom. All else fades away.

For Christian Culture,

Don Schanzenbach

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