Stand Up

I never served. Let me say that plainly, because I won’t borrow a valor I didn’t earn.

But I know what I owe.

Every Sunday, we gather in Galena, Ohio, and nobody kicks down the door. Nobody tells us what to preach or whom to worship. We sing as loud as we want. That is not an accident of nature. Somebody paid for it, and most of us never learned their names.

Veterans Day is not a three-day-weekend sale. It’s not a hashtag. It started as Armistice Day, marking the end of the First World War at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month. It exists to honor every man and woman who raised their right hand and wrote a blank check to this country, payable up to and including their lives.

Not the ones who talked about it.
The ones who did it.

They missed births and birthdays and funerals. They slept in places you’d refuse to park your car, for people they would never meet. Some came home and some didn’t. Many of those who did are still carrying things you can’t see.

Now here’s the part that should make us uncomfortable.

We call ourselves the United States of America, and we act like anything but.

Think about what they thought they were defending. Soldiers from every state, every background, every political stripe stood shoulder to shoulder and trusted the person next to them with their life. Nobody checked a voter registration card before they took cover together. They bled for one flag.

And what do we do with the country they handed us? We treat it like a cage match.

A seat in our historic institutions is supposed to be an honor. It’s supposed to carry weight, because people died for the right to build that room. It is a trust, not a trophy and not a stage. Yet too often we send people there to perform, to posture, and to throw election grenades at the very person who is on the same side of the same country. We would rather obliterate a fellow American than solve a problem with one. We have turned neighbors into enemies and called it patriotism.

It’s ridiculous. It’s an insult to every grave with a flag on it.

Those who served didn’t fight so we could win arguments on the internet. They fought so we would have a country left to argue in. The least we can do is bury the grudges before we bury another generation’s sacrifice under them.

So here’s where I land, and I won’t apologize for it.

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.”John 15:13

Every veteran who walked toward that kind of love deserves our honor, and they deserve a country worth the walk.

Honor is something you do. So do something.

• Shake a hand. Find a veteran, say thank you, then listen if they want to talk.
• Don’t let the lonely ones stay lonely. Call the one who served and never says a word about it.
• Show up for the families. Behind every veteran is a spouse, a parent, a kid who served too.
• Teach your kids. Make sure they know the names behind the freedoms they take for granted.
• Disagree like an American. Be fierce on the issues and decent to the person. That’s what they fought for.
• Stand up when they’re honored. Every time, without being asked.