I am reminded today, from the readings, of a scene from the movie Little Big Man. Dustin Hoffman played the role of Jack Crabb, who had learned the ways of the Indians after his parents were massacred by a Pawnee raid. Chief Dan George played the role of Old Lodge Skins, the Cheyenne tribal leader who raised Jack. Jack Crabb was born a white child, raised by red men, then captured by a U.S. Calvary raid, where he renounced the Indian ways, spending time in various occupations, including being a muleskinner for Col. George Armstrong Custer.
The setting for the scene I remembered was after Jack had returned to the Cheyenne after Custer had been killed at Little Bighorn, Custer’s Last Stand. The chief decided it was time to go to the hill of the Indian Burial, in full chief regalia, and die with dignity.
Jack accompanied his adopted father and watched as the chief lay down on the hill in the spot where he will await death. The chief offered his spirit to the Great Spirit, laying down on the grass, facing the sky, closing his eyes, saying, “Today is a good day to die.” The chief cites how the magic of the moment is right for dying.
Jack Crabb patiently sits with the chief as he lays there motionless. Several hours pass by. Then, dark clouds roll in and rain slowly began to fall. Some drops landed on the chief’s face. The chief opened one eye and asked, “Am I dead yet?” Jack Crabb tells the chief he is still alive.
The chief says, “Sometimes the magic works, and sometimes it doesn’t.” He got up and returned to being a living chief.
The same can be said for Elijah, when he asked God to end his life. The ways of life had changed. He said “Enough. I am no better than my ancestors,” those who gave their lives trying to keep Israel from falling prey to evil rulers and foreign priests. Elijah then had a death sentence on his head, and rather than die by the sword of one of Ahab and Jezebel’s soldiers, he would rather God take his life in a dignified fashion.
Sometimes that works, sometimes that doesn’t.
The readings today focus on the pressures we all feel, where we think we are up against a wall – between a rock and a hard place – left with few options.
God asked Elijah, “What are you doing here?”
He starts to unload all those pressures. He says, “I have tried very hard to stop the evil the Israelites have been doing – forsaking your covenant – throwing down your altars – killing your prophets – with me the last on that list who is left alive.”
David, in Psalm 42, wrote, “My soul is heavy … why do I go so heavily while the enemy oppresses me?
While my bones are being broken my enemies mock me to my face.”
The man of Gerasenes, named Legion, shouted out loudly, “What have you to do with me! I beg you, do not torment me.”
Then, the demons within the man begged Jesus, “Do not order us back to the abyss. Let us enter into that large herd of swine.”
After the demons were allowed to enter into the swine and the herd ran and jumped into the Sea of Galilee, drowning, the people asked Jesus to leave because they were seized with great fear.
Even the man who no longer had demons inside him begged Jesus to take him with him, and not leave him behind.
The whole theme is focused on people being afraid of the challenges before them. Afraid of living when someone is looking to kill you, to break your bones, to mock you. Afraid of dying and going to the abyss. Afraid of being left behind.
Been there, done that.
Who hasn’t?
We run away. We pray to God for help. We are at the end of the rope, at our wit’s end.
I’m also reminded of a documentary I saw, called The Conscientious Objector. It was a documentary about a man named Desmond Doss, who was a conscientious objector to killing, even at a time of war. He was like the Andy Griffith character in No Time for Sergeants, in that he was a simple country boy drafted to serve his country. He was also like the Andy Griffith character, Sheriff Taylor of Mayberry, in that he was one who stood for the law without using a gun. However, Desmond Doss was a real patriot, who served his country at a time of war – World War II – refusing to ever take up a weapon. The fact that Americans were at war, serving their country fighting, meant he wanted to also serve his country by helping in any way he could, without touching a firearm.
Because of his faith, Desmond Doss was belittled. Like in No Time for Sergeants, he got latrine duty, and KP more than anyone else. The non-coms and the commissioned officers overseeing him tried to break him – tried to force him to take up a weapon, but he refused, regardless of the punishment placed upon him. The orders came down from the top, he had the right to object because of his religious beliefs.
Desmond Doss was assigned to the medical detachment for the 307th infantry. He was sent to the Pacific Theater – to Okinawa. He refused to wear a sidearm, which was a standard precaution for medics. His actions on Okinawa were heroic. His platoon refused to make assaults before Desmond had read his Bible each day and prayed for their safety. He risked his life repeatedly, retrieving wounded soldiers and dragging them out of the line of fire and lowering them by a harness devise he created, to a place where they could receive treatment. He was wounded and treated his own wounds, rather than call for help and assistance. After nightfall, he was reached by stretcher bearers and taken to safety.
Desmond Doss is one of very few conscientious objectors to be honored with the Congressional Medal of Honor. He was presented this award by President Harry Truman.
Desmond Doss was stationed on Okinawa for 23 days, in 1945. He did not do what he did because he was brave and unafraid. He simply feared God more than he feared a Drill Sergeant or a Captain who might threaten him. He feared God more than a Japanese machine gun’s bullets. Desmond Doss did what he did because God protected him so he could do it.
He was like Elijah in his faith, so after Elijah heard a great wind splitting mountains and beating rocks into pieces, he knew that was not the LORD. After Elijah heard an earthquake, he knew that was not the LORD. After Elijah heard a fire, he knew that was not the LORD. Desmond Doss, like Elijah, knew God was present when he heard silence.
God told them both, “Go” and “return” and they did, no longer frightened by the sounds of danger, but comforted in the sounds of serenity.
The man Jesus healed of demonic possession, we are told, had been seized many times by the loud sounds in his head, so frightening, “he had broken his chains and shackles and been driven by madness into the wilds.” Without the demons inside him, he was comforted by the silence of God’s presence.
In Paul’s letter to the Galatians, he tells us how the Law is like being bound by chains and shackles. Before Christ came, we had to be put in a prison and guarded by the law. The law becomes that fence that keeps us within its boundary, screaming at us, “This is the limit!” Meanwhile, outside the fence is all the noise saying, “Come sin! Its just a little beyond.” The temptation drives us wild, so we break the chains and shackles and run amok.
But, we know Christ, so we feel guilt. We have been baptized as Christians. We wrap our faces in the mantle of Christ, to keep us from being distracted by the ways of the world. Still, the demons keep on calling out our names.
They beg, “Please don’t order us back into the abyss, where you can no longer hear our temptations.”
Jesus came to free us of the law’s prison and guardianship. That can only happen when we hear the silence of the LORD. We have to become conscientious objectors to sin of all kinds, unwilling to break under the pressure. To do that we have to die a figurative death. We have to say, “Today is a good day to die in a way that dignifies the LORD.”
Then, “Go, return to where you came through the wilderness,” with the peace of the LORD with you.
Amen
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