On the second day of this new year I walked the battlegrounds of Antietam. My grandsons merrily dashed up and down rolling hills and gleefully splashed in mud puddles, despite their mother’s earnest pleas.
That day I heard other pleas from other mothers, many other mothers.
I’ve walked those grounds many times. But this time was different. I saw and heard things I hadn’t seen or heard before.
(Not all epiphanies are sunny.)
I recently rewatched Ken Burns’s “The Civil War” PBS series. It’s replete with heart breaking letters to and from brave but terrified young men.
Mother, tonight I sleep in the mud. I hear artillery in the distance. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.
I saw piles and piles of dead young men. There. There. And there. They had dashed across hills and fields into a barrage of fire. Nearly all were baptized Christians. Each side said God was on its side.
And God was.
On both sides.
Women on both sides—Clara Barton in the North and Cornelia McDonald in the South and 10,000 nameless others—stanched bloody wounds, soothed fevered brows, moistened parched lips, and consoled the dying. Nearly all were baptized Christians.
Today is the Baptism of Jesus Sunday. It’s a minor holiday on the liturgical calendar. There are no gift exchanges. There are no candy baskets. No red helium balloons as on Pentecost.
As told in the gospel, the baptism of Jesus was spectacular. The heaven’s opened, a dove descended, a voice spoke. “You are my beloved son. Today I have begotten you.”
(Maybe there could be doves on the Baptism of Jesus Sunday. Lots of doves.)
Jesus would heal the sick, feed the hungry, soothe the tormented, welcome outcasts, and love his enemies even if it killed it him. It did. Love didn’t win that day.
He was crucified, dead, and buried.
Jesus’s body lay a-moldering in the ground, but the truth went marching on, right onto the battlefield of Antietam and so many other godforsaken places.
We don’t need investigators to verify the resurrection of Jesus any more than we need them to verify the resurrection of Osiris.
Mother, tonight I sleep in the mud. I hear artillery in the distance. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.
And then a nurse knelt beside him in the mud and wiped his brow.
God was on both sides.
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[APOLOGY. The comment window was unavailable last Sunday morning for “Star of Bethlehem.” It became available later in the day. If you meant to add a comment but couldn’t, you can do so here. I personally respond to all comments but generally post only 10 or so because of space limitations. Those 10 comments become part of the archives. Thank you one and all for your interest in my work. Randy]_______________________
See Paula’s photo on the home page. Posted Jan. 1o
I wonder if the people who broke into the capitol building believe God is on their side.
I wonder if we all could stop bringing our gods into our thoughtless and stupid actions.
I wonder if we could put aside our “rightness” and our anger and just visit a battlefield or a museum or an art gallery that brings into sharp focus the harm that being “right” all the time creates.
Well said. Leave “god” out of it. Bring love into it. It’s not about who’s right. It’s about who’s kind.
It was the bloodiest war day in American history, and at the end of the day, the opposing troops were basically right back where they had started that morning. One problem was that all the officers had been trained in the same tactics, as they were at that time all part of the same US Army.
My father spent 5 years in a German prison camp as a Polish soldier. My brother fought in Vietnam and came home a broken person. I was ostracized from my family at the age of 16 and left home because of my stand against the Vietnam War. My son and his wife both fought in Afghanistan while we cared for their infant daughter. My prayers are that this is the generation that will “Give Peace a Chance.” Jesus had the same prayer, so I am not sure we have made much progress. I only know that in Life and in Death, we belong to God.
I was at Gettysburg battlefield several times when I was working for the Park Service. When I retired I took my brother and his wife to visit as a visitor. Standing at one point in the battlefield I was so overcome with grief I could barely move. May God grant us all some peace and understanding.
Thank you! Children are our hope. They are gifts from God, and so are our breath, this sweet earth & all that nourishes our bodies & minds. Science can lead us through this pandemic, as can faith in the majority of our neighbors can lead us past this horrendous insurrection. Throughout time we have ‘til now fought & bled for justice…the power of the strong over the weak must shift to lead us forward. Strength of truth, of spirit, of justice can lead us through these dark times – if we find ways to work, listen, learn, solve complex challenges and heal TOGETHER. Playing in former battlefields sounds like a great start, granddad!
From the ancient mystic Sufi poet, Rumi, ” Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there. When the soul lies down in THAT grass, the world is too full to talk about…” And, “There are many things, I’m sure,” she said, “without which we could not live… But love is the only one I can think of.” (apologies; no reference) So next time we fall supine into a lush, alive, green field… forget nothing and offer gratitude for all that have perished or been forgotten or have lived and thrived there, and may still.
I don’t think God would be on either side. I can’t believe God wants any kind of war.
I had the opportunity to visit Antietam many times when living in Shepherdstown, WV. The most moving experience was when visiting there with a friend who said he thought his grandfather had fought in the battle. From the books in the visitor center, we were able to determine exactly where his grandfather’s unit had fought. We walked to that part of the battlefield, where my friend was able to put his hand on the stone wall his grandfather had used for cover when fired upon by the Georgia infantry. History brought to life.