Upon the Eve of Things

Look only for the good, for the Divine in people and things, and all the rest leave to God. – John-Roger

Jesus said, “Whoever has come to know the world has discovered a
carcass, and whoever has discovered a carcass, of that person the world is
not worthy.” – The Gospel of Thomas – Verse 56

I write today in the midst of what many have termed a global pandemic caused by a coronavirus. The world has largely stopped or slowed down to a halt. Much of what many in the West viewed as normal life has been upended, turned around, and reshuffled. To say we are in unprecedented times seems too general and vague for describing what is actually being experienced. Of course there are many points of view regarding these events, but regardless of the details I think it is fair to say that all of us have had our priorities at least re-examined if not largely altered. We are learning and being shown what exactly do we value, what do we hold dear, what truly is precious to us in this life.

Today I was ruminating on the state of the world as we know it as well as the state of America, and how my small, humble, little part relates to this larger project we call our life here. It is easy to feel miniscule, puny, and insignificant during large, powerful events where major forces are being marshaled around you. Helicopters whirl loudly overhead on a daily basis. Cars and sirens and emergency units regularly whiz down the roads in our neighborhood. Politicians, leaders, and captains of industry are making bold and sometimes unusual proclamations. Life is just not what it used to be. And then there’s the news. Certainly the events and goings-on we are witnessing at local, state, and national levels are at a fever pitch the likes of which America has rarely seen. Which got me to thinking – when has America seen such trying and challenging times such as these? Immediately my mind, as it often does from time to time, wound its way to my grandfather on my mother’s side – Benjamin Jones. His story is one that for me ushers forth hope and a quiet strength which frankly surpasses my own comprehension particularly these days as I find myself thrust into even just a pinprick of the full flesh and blood experience of his sacred life.

Ben was an infantry soldier in World War Two. He was one of the first Americans to be deployed, and early in the American campaign, apparently under the insistence of the British, our troops were sent to the North African theater. Ben was one of those men and served under then General Eisenhower. In fact Ben recounts in his memoir which he wrote called, “A Soldier’s Story” one chance encounter he had with the soon to be president of the United States of America.

One night just before the fight at Sidi Bou Sid, General Eisenhower stopped and poked his head into my command car where I was the radio operator and asked me “How’s it going, Soldier?” I replied “Rough, but we’ll make it.” Ike frequently took time to chat with his soldiers, which was a real morale booster. He was much loved and respected by the troops.

“Rough but we’ll make it” pretty well sums up the gritty optimism of Ben’s attitude toward life and suffering which carried him through the war alive. It was in and around the mountains in Tunisia where Ben would fight and ultimately be captured by the Germans. He would remain as a POW for over 2 years until he was freed by the Americans and the end of the war altogether. Ben certainly knew firsthand what hardship was like and, most importantly, how to survive it. As I read back over his memoir as I often do, I am once again struck at how he both handled his experience in combat as well as how he articulated, framed, and wrote about those experiences later on. Even upon his reflections, he found silver linings in seemingly impossible settings.

While describing the “heavy losses in fierce skirmishes” which his unit and British units suffered attempting to secure the Kasserine Pass outside of Tunisia, Ben digresses to offer seemingly unthinkable praise of the German forces. He states:

I must give the Germans credit for a modicum of sportsmanship. We had three or four ambulances well-marked with red crosses, each containing American wounded. In spite of heavy fighting, the Germans refrained from firing on these ambulances.

It strikes me to no small degree how gracious and honest he is here regarding the Germans. The man is literally in the line of fire and he is still able to recognize a good deed done, even by his enemy. In this light and frame, it becomes interesting to say the least to consider the concept of an enemy at all. Jesus has of course so famously set the precedent for dealing with enemies when he stated:

But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven…Be perfect therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Matthew 5:44-45 & 48

I see Ben doing precisely this in ways I personally have only begun to imagine or truly consider thanks to the events of the day. Clearly Ben had his enemies, and from all that I read and can tell from his story, he loved them and found a way, whatever way, to navigate himself through the bowels of his hell into peace and contentment which are the fruits of an ultimate liberation. At one point Ben is describing the awful tragedy of his friends and comrades in battle.

A friend of mine from New England, Tommy Sullivan, was killed, and Sergeant Jack Hauppert had both of his legs shattered by shrapnel. Jack was definitely going to have a Big League career as a baseball pitcher until this happened. He had pitched against Bob Feller for the state high school baseball championship for Iowa. I still never doubted that I would make it.

What sorrow and pain expressed so clearly and with true compassion. It is that final line which struck me this evening as I was re-reading his memoir. He never doubted, which is also to say Ben had faith. He had a faith not just in himself, but in a force beyond himself, overshadowing him and before him everywhere – even in the German soldiers he was forced to interact with. Even in the depths of darkness he knew he could find a way. And much in his memoir describes the specifics of how he got by, what he did to find whatever comfort or care he could to keep carrying on no matter what. It is faith which affords us such impossible odds.

Faith is the water and sunlight which nourishes the fields for our crops to grow, but before we can harvest any such fruits from our labors, we must first go through those labors. We must perform and act out our lives. We must live whatever it is ours to live. Now is a time, it seems to me, where we are only beginning to embark upon such difficult times. America has been struggling for some time now, decades even, and today we may have crossed our own Rubicon. Something has occurred, I don’t think any of us yet know precisely what that may be, but we are all very aware that something has definitely occurred. This is our time now, whatever it may become, it is ours. We must grab our sickle and work hard upon these crops before us if we are to bear any fruit from our harvest which surely is to come. Faith affirms for us that it will come – eventually.

Part of that work is to follow in the steps of Jesus Christ. We must love thine enemies. But before we can love our enemies, we must first acknowledge that we even have enemies in our lives at all! Did you even know that you have enemies? Do you know who precisely are your enemies? Your true enemies? For only when you know them can you even begin to consider loving them. Ben knew his enemies as did Jesus Christ. We all have them, some we all share collectively, but often we do not wish to see them, to call them out or look upon them. We often do not want to pierce the shadows where they take shape and form. We may see only outlines of them from time to time at a glance, and yet we look away wishing for nothing more. But eventually they will emerge. We will bear witness to our enemies. The only question remains if you will love them even if you know them not. Can we harvest the fruits from our labors even if we never actually labor?

It is always easy for any of us to consider ourselves great in times of general peace and prosperity. But only real men and women are revealed in times of turmoil and strife. That is when we witness whatever resolve and merit we may actually possess. Similar to a strong economy or the saying, “a rising tide lifts all boats,” no one can really tell who is in actual fact truly good during times of relative peace. It is when the market crashes that we discover the best businesses, the low tide reveals the actual water line, and genuine catastrophe brings good people to the fore. It is only upon the eve of such things that our litmus can be tested, that we may be known, and often the results are a surprise to both ourselves and to those around us. For just as the good are revealed, so too are the bad. Just as the good crop has grown and is now ready for harvest, so too have the weeds. Certainly this is the story of Jesus Christ, the first and last man to actually grace this Earth, but it is also the story of the disciples and how they consistently failed to demonstrate the mettle necessary whenever their time finally came. Failure not only seems to be an option for us, but an eventuality. Forever we shall fail, falter, and misstep. The only real surprise is when we finally realize the true extent of our own. Ultimately, through Grace, we all find our strength which is our salvation. Who knows the exact proportions necessary for each man, let alone for ourselves, but it is at least clear enough that our salvation lies somewhere between God’s Grace and our strength to carry on. Here is the flux and sway of our human life – where each of us may decide and discover for ourselves the precise alchemy of who we truly are, what we do indeed stand for, live by, and ultimately die alongside. Death comes to all men as does the blessing of life. The choices we make in the interim fall under our personal, private, and public domain – they are ours to learn, to experiment, and perhaps even to master.

Our life is ultimately all that each of us has and holds dear. In the final analysis, what more is there for us? The life we look back upon in days to come shall only and forever be the life which we lead today. Where are we going? What are we doing? Who in fact are we to ourselves and to each other? Answer these questions and the fate and destiny of our lives shall spread out before us like a royal red carpet. We shall be made perfect and divine just as our heavenly Father, just as Jesus so described, just as our faith so fashions.