We are coming upon a three day holiday weekend—Memorial Day. To many people, this means an extra day off, a longer weekend, perhaps time to take off to the lake or a quick trip to see family. Outdoor picnics, family time, a little extra rest . . . all needed by almost everyone in our overly busy world.

As do so many rituals, this one easily loses its original meaning. It is and was intended as a time to honor those who have died in all American wars. Those times of remembrance first began to spring up after the Civil War and was formalized by an act of Congress in 1971 when the fourth Monday in May was official set aside for such remembrances.

We need these memories. Especially in a nation that prides itself in its freedom from oppression and tyranny, we must take time to consider those whose lives were lost when defending that freedom. And it is even more necessary because of our individualistic culture which suggests that each person alone is responsible for his or her success or failure. Instead, we intentionally set aside time to remember that we exist in our privileges and freedoms because we are connected to so many who laid down their lives for us.

The transition to our understanding of Christianity is so obvious here. Just as we live because others died, we live because the Other died, was buried and resurrected again. That is the central hope of our faith. Many, many, many have died for us. One saw the resurrection, and because of that, we have ultimate hope, hope that indeed God does win, and goodness will prevail over evil.

But in the meantime, we do see evil everywhere, and that evil is often expressed by one group of people seeking to destroy another group, whether by formal declaration of war or by the hidden and insidious systematic destruction that may happen without a formal statement of war. Any way they are expressed, wars are horrible events. Although there may be technical victors, everybody loses. The lives of the best of young men and women are lost to impersonal bullets and bombs and IED’s and disease. Collateral damage spreads like virulent viruses. Families are destroyed, hopes dashed, national infrastructure damaged.

How easy it would have been for Jesus to have rained down divine wrath on those who sought to end his life, and, they hoped, end his influence for peace and justice and godly living. But had he done so, evil would have triumphed again. Instead, Jesus took into himself all that hatred and offered forgiveness in return. Frankly, it takes a lot more courage to do that than to return evil with evil.

There was once a man who was determined to wage war on those who wanted to follow the way of Jesus. He set about his destructive path, one which he just knew was righteous and pleasing to God. And then, suddenly, he met Jesus face to face, and was flattened by the encounter. This was not the God he thought he knew—this God was completely different. This was not a God who sought the glory of destruction upon those who believed differently or acted differently, but a God who sought the glory of reconciliation and peace and forgiveness. This man, whom we know of as Paul, and who wrote much of the New Testament, discovered it took just as much courage and power to live as a reconciler than as a destroyer. He himself ended up dying at the hands of those who had been just like he was—sure that others who believed differently must be destroyed. But his words linger on and speak to us even today.

Yes, there are lots of people to remember this Memorial Day weekend. I hope we’ll take at least a few minutes and ponder them—and then ponder how we’ll each be remembered.