I am faced with a dilemma today – and so is every preacher who takes the job seriously. Today is one of those “double whammy” days. It’s both Pentecost Sunday and Memorial Day Sunday. Now, at first glance, those days seem to have nothing whatsoever to do with one another. So which one do I emphasize during the sermon?
Pentecost Sunday, on the one hand, celebrates the gift of
the Holy Spirit. The usual scripture reading is out of the book of Acts, a
familiar story to many people. On that day, Jesus’ disciples were gathered
together in prayer. Without warning, the Spirit of God blew into their midst
like a mighty wind, and settled on them in tongues of fire! They suddenly had
the power to speak in other languages so that the Gospel could be heard all
over the known world; and Peter preached the very first Christian sermon as he
called for repentance and belief in Jesus Christ.
Memorial Day, on the other hand, is a very different kind of
celebration. While Pentecost is a Christian holiday, Memorial Day is an
American holiday. On Memorial Day, we remember the men and women who have given
their lives for our country. While Pentecost is joyful, Memorial Day is a
solemn day. “Taps” and “The Star Spangled Banner” are the most frequently heard
pieces of music in cemeteries all around the country. And while Pentecost
celebrates the newness of life in the Spirit, Memorial Day remembers those
whose lives have been ended all too soon during the grim business of war.
Both holidays offer images that are vital for us to
remember. We don’t want to forget the tongues of the Spirit’s fire on
Pentecost, but we dare not forget the flag-draped coffins of Memorial Day, either.
How in the world can any preacher choose between those two images?
Well, maybe we don’t have to choose. Maybe the fire of the
Spirit that filled the believers on that first Pentecost is the very same fire
that still fills men and women who willingly offer their lives up for the sake
of their country. And maybe the best way to illustrate the power of that Spirit
is by telling a story.
The year was 1943; the day was February 2. The American
transport ship Dorchester was moving
steadily across the icy waters of the North Atlantic from Newfoundland to
Greenland. It carried over 900 servicemen, merchant seamen, and civilian
workers. The captain knew that German U-boats were in the area; so he had given
orders for that everyone should sleep in their clothing and keep their life
jackets on. But below deck, the sleeping quarters were hot, and the life
jackets were uncomfortable. Despite orders, many sailors were sleeping stripped
to their skivvies.
Just before 1:00 in the morning, a German U-boat happened across
the transport. She locked the Dorchester
in her sights, and fired three torpedoes. One of those torpedoes hit amid ship
on the starboard side, far below the water line, knocking out power and radio
contact. It also knocked a huge hole in the ship’s hull. The Dorchester began to sink, and the
captain gave the order to abandon ship.
We can only imagine the chaotic scene on board the Dorchester. Scores of men had been
killed or wounded by the German torpedo. Others groped blindly in the darkness
below deck like moles trying to find their way to safety. Those who reached the
deck were met by a frigid blast of Arctic air. That air and the equally icy sea
promised a quick death to anyone who was forced overboard. Panic-stricken men
jumped into overcrowded lifeboats; and in the chaos, others drifted away nearly
empty.
In the midst of all the confusion and terror, four Army
chaplains were islands of strength and hope. They were Lt. George Fox, a
Methodist minister; Lt. Alexander D. Goode, a Jewish rabbi; Lt. John P. Washington,
a Roman Catholic priest; and Lt. Clark V. Poling, a Dutch Reformed pastor. The
four chaplains worked their way among the frightened men, calming those who
were panic-stricken, helping to tend the wounded, and guiding those who were
disoriented towards the lifeboats. Witnesses of that awful night remember the
four chaplains offering prayers for the dying, and encouragement for those who
still had hope. One witness, Private William B. Bednar, found himself floating
in oil-smeared water surrounded by dead bodies and debris. “I could hear men
crying, pleading, praying,” Bednar recalls. “But I could also hear the four chaplains
preaching courage. Their voices were the only thing that kept me going.” Another
sailor, Petty Officer John J. Mahoney, remembers that he tried to go back into
his cabin; but Rabbi Goode stopped him. Mahoney explained that he had forgotten
his gloves and would need them in the cold Arctic air. “Never mind,” responded
the rabbi, “I have two pairs.” Much later, Mahoney realized that the rabbi had
given him his own gloves, knowing that he would never leave the ship.
As the Dorchester
continued to sink, the chaplains opened a storage locker and began distributing
life jackets. When all of them were gone, the chaplains removed their own life
jackets and gave them to four frightened young men. John Ladd, a survivor who
witnessed the chaplains’ courageous act, commented later, “It was the finest
thing I have seen or hope to see this side of heaven.” As the ship sank beneath
the icy waters of the north Atlantic, survivors in nearby life boats could see
the four chaplains standing together. They were braced against the slanting
deck, arms linked, offering prayers for the men of the Dorchester. Out of over 900 men, only 230 survived. It is certain
that many of them were saved by the selfless courage of the four chaplains.
On that first Pentecost, God filled men and women with a
Spirit of love and power – a spirit of love for their fellow human beings, and
a spirit of power to offer themselves up for a greater good. We have all heard
stories of Christians down through the ages who have suffered death out of love
for others. It seems to me that when men and women willingly give their lives
for the sake of their country and for their fellow human beings, it is the
doing of that very same Spirit. Love enables us to care; power enables us to
take great risks; but love and power
enables us to offer up our own lives for the lives of others we may not even
know. So, maybe Pentecost and Memorial Day aren’t that different, after all. Maybe
the pictures of flag-draped coffins should include an image of the Spirit’s
fire hovering over them. Oh, we can’t see that fire; but we know that it’s
there. I don’t care whether the fallen are Christians, Jews, atheists, or
agnostics; no human being can show that kind of courage without God’s help! As
we remember them this weekend, let us also give thanks for the Spirit that
fills us not only with power, but with courage and with love.
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