Memorial Day

The origins of Memorial Day are often attributed to General John Logan. It is true that, in 1868, he gave impetus to an official “Decoration Day” as it was first called, a time for remembering the Civil War dead and decorating their graves. But Logan never really understood the meaning of the day. Until his own death, he remained a radical reconstructionist whose fierce anger toward the South never abated.
Nearer the truth is this: In 1867, the ladies of Columbus, MI, placed flowers on the graves of all the fallen soldiers in their town — Union dead no less than their own Confederates. In the aftermath of that terrible war, it was a most humane and far-reaching act. And so a northern poet, Francis Miles Finch, celebrated this simple act of charity and reconciliation in the South with words that were memorized in classrooms North and South for years. For he spoke of, “banishing our anger forever, when we laurel the graves of the dead, blue and gray alike.”
I wonder, in these days of bitter partisan division, what FOX News might have said about those women? The lead story would no doubt be a condemnation of weak southern women who compromised their principles; who dared to reach out to the other side.
Such a simple thing: placing flowers on graves. And yet, in the years after that caring and compassionate act, two former antagonists — Lamar of Alabama and Sumner of Massachusetts — insisted that Memorial Day had been a powerful influence toward the reconciliation of North and South. It has been suggested that these women discovered a very different sort of power. With their homeland shattered, their hearts filled with grief, their future uncertain, they must have felt powerless to do anything to make a difference.
What do you do when it seems you can’t do anything? Well, they cared still, and discovered that their caring was a form of power.
In a recent column in this newspaper, the columnist spoke of his despair over the defeat of the bill requiring background checks for gun purchases. An overwhelming number of Americans are in favor of such a bill, but a gutless and morally blind Congress backed away. Once again, extreme partisanship — and the opportunity to defeat something the President wants — trumps the common good. Why even bother anymore?
My mind goes back to those women who dared to care even as the world they had known was falling apart around them. And incredibly, as they carried flowers to the graves of their own sons and to the graves of the enemy who were also someone’s sons, they made a difference, actually began the work of reconciliation.
Like them, I do not want to give up or give in. After all, I come from a religious tradition that dares to assert that the crib and the cross — not the cannon and the shot — are still symbols for one of the most powerful influences ever brought to bear upon our human family.
I think of some words spoken near the end of the Civil War: “With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on … to do all which may achieve a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.”
After all the pain, all the suffering, all the bitterness of war, Abraham Lincoln chose to care still.
Today’s Tea Party and Congress may find such words weak and spineless. To me they sound like a call to bold action.
— Rev. Gene Nelson is the pastor of the Community Church of Sebastopol.