As a veteran of the United States Army, I am genuinely grateful when someone says, “Thank you for your service.” You can always feel the sincerity of these thanks, and sincerity matters. And yet, whenever someone offers such thanks, I’m simultaneously humbled and troubled.
I’m humbled because veterans aren’t the only people who serve our country. Teachers serve. Nurses serve. Clergy, social workers, volunteers, children caring for aging parents, parents teaching their children, and neighbors looking after one another all help sustain the fragile fabric of a free society. We all serve and we all sacrifice, in our own ways, to make our communities and our country better.
However, I’m also troubled by expressions of thanks, because true gratitude is expressed through action, not words. To truly honor those who serve, especially those who gave their lives for our country, we must create a country worthy of their sacrifice. In his eulogy for the marines who died at Iwo Jima in 1945, Rabbi Roland Gittlesohn asks us to do just that, imploring us to:
“…live together in peace the way they fought and are buried in war. Here lie men who loved America because their ancestors, generations ago helped in her founding, and other men who loved her with equal passion because they themselves or their own fathers escaped from oppression to her blessed shores. Here lie officers and [privates], [Blacks] and whites, rich and poor…together. Here are Protestants, Catholics, and Jews…together. Here no man prefers another because of his faith or despises him because of his color. Here there are no quotas of how many from each group are admitted or allowed. Among these men there is no discrimination. No prejudice. No hatred. Theirs is the highest and purest democracy.
Anyone among us, the living, who fails to understand that will thereby betray those who lie here. Whoever of us lifts his hand in hate against another, or thinks himself superior to those who happen to be in the minority, makes of this ceremony and of the bloody sacrifice it commemorates, an empty, hollow mockery…”
The highest tribute we may offer to the fallen this Memorial Day, then, is not merely remembrance, but commitment. We honor our fallen best when we strengthen democracy, reject hatred, protect the vulnerable, and widen the blessings of liberty for all. Anything less risks turning our expressions of gratitude into meaningless formalities.
Thank you for your service.
Rabbi Josh Knobel