When we talk about resurrection, do we mean a literal rising from the dead? Or could resurrection simply mean the way that our lives go on without us? Could our resurrection be in our legacy and not in our hearts starting to beat once they have lain still and silent in our chests?
These are the questions that my Unitarian Universalist minister raised today, speaking about Jesus and Martin Luther King, Jr. and how we have no control over our memory and our legacy once we have left this earthly plane. We have no control over the impressions we are leaving on people while we are still living, for that matter, which is why I remind myself often to assume the best intentions. We cannot take back our words or our deeds, especially if we are dead.
My minister spoke of Jesus' words, of his going against the popular religions of the time to cleanse prostitutes and lepers, of his life spent in love. She spoke of his name being used today for hate and discrimination. She spoke of MLK Jr's speeches about conviction and love. She spoke of both Jesus and MLK Jr. meeting hate with witness, with peace, with passivity, with love. She quoted MLK Jr, "A man who does not have something for which he is willing to die is not fit to live."
Now that they have died, we are free to selectively quote Jesus and MLK Jr., using their words for our purposes and ignoring their teachings we find too hard. We are free to make their lives and their deaths about us, about our needs and our prejudices. We do not have to think about what we would die for.
As I listened to her speak, I thought about my convictions and about the convictions of the man whose hand I held. He would die for me. He would sacrifice himself so that others could live. He would not do it peacefully. He would not meet violence with acceptance... or he would. It depends on the violence, the death he was saving me from. He would fight if he could, he would save himself too, but if it came down to it - a grenade maybe? - he would trade places with me.
I know this is one of the big draws of Jesus - he loved us so much he was willing to die for us. I think it's a more common love than people think. Maybe this love was not one of the miracles of Jesus, maybe it was part of his humanity.
On Easter 2007, a man named Jesse was shot in the head in Iraq. Karl, my husband, saw him after he was shot. Karl rode in a stryker back from a mission with a man who had Jesse's helmet strapped to his uniform. In the helmet were remnants of Jesse. I didn't know Jesse. I have seen videos of him. I went to his funeral. I met his widow and his daughter. I don't know what Jesse died for. I think he died so we could live. Not like Jesus, not in the way that Jesus meant to save us so he was willing to die for us, but in the way that Jesse was there for his country and his guys and he shot back so the man next to him would live. Or maybe, just like Jesus. Maybe there are men and women who are flawed, but who believe so much in their way of life, they are willing to die to save the rest of us. Not just American soldiers, but Iraqis too, who fight for the right of their neighbors to live in peace. And people from Afghanistan and Korea and Vietnam and every country that our country has ever fought in.. Maybe there are people all over the world willing to die for the rest of us, because they have conviction and passion and they have found something they are willing to die for and it's life.
This is what survivor's guilt is about: they died so you could live. Now you have to live. You have to ascribe meaning to the deaths of those who fell for your life. This is why veterans start organizations to help each other or the community (WWP; The Mission Continues; Iraq Veterans Against the War); why veterans make art and tell stories (SongwritingWith:Soldiers; The Telling Project); why veterans try so hard to live and why they find it so hard to live (veterans commit suicide at a rate of at least 22 veterans a day). It's a lot of pressure to make sure your life is worth your friend's death.... but maybe it doesn't have to be. Maybe people are not dying in wars because our lives have to be amazing and leave an impact. Maybe people are dying just so we can live; just so we can draw another breath and hear a baby laugh and be kind to one another. Maybe we don't have to try so hard to build the right monuments and write the right words and do the right things. Maybe we can just be here. Maybe they died just so we could live.
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