They died for America.
They served so that at least one country on this planet would be a safe haven, a harbor, a rest for all people groups.
They died united despite their differences. They served together regardless of which state they called home, who they voted for or who wanted to regulate or deregulate something.
They served to provide freedom to all Americans, even those who are different or who think differently than they did. Than I do. Than you do.

While quietly strolling these hallowed grounds I kept coming back to the same thing. They died for all Americans and in a way, they died for all humanity. They died because all of us are created equally and in the image of God. All. Of. Us.

Somehow in this everything-happens-on-my-phone, instant information age, Americans have turned on one another. We think our differences define us. We say the cruelest things with our fingers, behind our screens. We believe generalities and embrace rumors as truth and we hate, hate, hate each other. Name calling has replaced open minds and listening ears. We are so busy planning our next point of attack that we don’t hear each other at all. We don’t recognize Jesus in the conservative, the liberal, the brown-skinned guy or the pasty, pale white girl, the alcoholic, the porn-addicted, the homecoming queen or the homeless veteran. If they disagree with us, have chosen a different approach to life, made poor decisions, are too rich or too poor or too fat or too thin, they are wrong. Period.

We “unfriend” someone because she voted for the incorrect person. We tear each other down, laugh as other human beings are mocked or threatened into recanting their opinion, idea or belief. We cheer when windows smash, cars burn and shots are fired and call it free speech. We refuse refuge to families desperate to leave war-torn countries and call it national security. We do not extend a hand to one another out of fear of what others will say. We worry more about how we look, others’ sin, what society says, what our church friends will think, what our unchurched friends will think…we are paralyzed by the ugliness we fear will turn on us if we don’t fall in line.

All these soldiers served and many lost their lives in battles because they believed in the American dream, not the one that’s all about how any of us can be rich if we work hard enough but the other dream.

The dream that says:
my door is open to you,
I’ll give you a ride home,
my extra coat is yours,
I’ll pray for you,
let’s do lunch,
hold my hand,
do you need help?
our flag is still there,
be my friend,
I made you a cup of coffee,
want to go for a walk?
I love you.

Was their sacrifice worth it? Are we beyond saving? Is the country so divided, its people so radically different that none of these graves matter?

They died for their country. What are we doing for it?

What are we doing to it?