“Peace, Reconciliation, and the Cost of Freedom”- Colossians 1:19-20, Ecclesiastes 3:1,8
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I want to welcome everyone this morning here and online to this “Sunday before Memorial Day” service here at Faith. This Memorial Day weekend, is more than the Pancake and Sausage Breakfast coming up tomorrow, it’s about reflecting on the sacrifices made for earthly freedoms, and how that ties to the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus Christ, for our eternal freedom.
“The Cost of Earthly Freedom ”
The sacrifices of fallen soldiers remind us of the high cost of freedom and peace in a fallen world.
For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.
Christ, fully divine, embodies God’s presence and power.
His death on the cross reconciles “all things” to God, bridging the gap caused by sin between humanity and the Creator.
The “blood of his cross” signifies the cost of this peace—not cheap, but paid through ultimate sacrifice.
Just as soldiers gave their lives for national freedom, Christ gave His life for cosmic reconciliation, securing eternal peace with God.
The freedom we enjoy as a nation parallels the spiritual freedom Christ offers, both bought at a high cost.
Ecclesiastes 3:1, 8
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
Here we see the cyclical nature of the human experience. We have the reality of world, yet the yearning for peace. We acknowledge the broken nature of this world, while longing for God’s ultimate “shalom.” Especially as we reflect on Memorial Day, we see military sacrifice as a response to temporal necessity, life here and now, not an endorsement of violence.
The cost of war reflects the fallenness of creation, where peace often comes at the expense of lives (Gen 3:15-17).
Soldiers likewise are servants, as the soldier’s sacrifices can be seen as a vocation in itself, serving others in a way that echoes Christ’s servant heart, even in imperfect systems.
It’s because of God’s grace, that soldiers are enabled to acts of courage and selflessness, even in secular contexts, pointing again to God’s redemptive purposes.
The Christmas Truce of 1914
The Christmas Truce of 1914 was a widespread, unofficial ceasefire that occurred on Christmas Eve and Day along the Western Front of World War I. Soldiers from both sides, primarily British and German, spontaneously stopped fighting and engaged in acts of peace, including singing carols, sharing food, exchanging gifts, and even playing soccer. The Christmas Truce, while short-lived and not a formal peace agreement, is a powerful symbol of the human desire for peace amidst the horrors of war. It highlights the human cost of war and the longing for a return to normalcy.
We honor our veterans, we honor the fallen, by learning their stories, praying for their families, and supporting veterans in general.
Some may view peacemaking as unrealistic in a violent world. We have the realities of our world, but we are not to neglect the hope we have in Christ for our future.
Christ’s Reconciliation Through the Cross
The ultimate act of reconciliation, Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. Bringing peace between God and humanity, and making the path to eternal peace.
We see these same scripture passage that apply. Christs’s death reconciles all things, restoring creation’s intended harmony.
Christ is our peace, breaking down hostility and creating one new humanity.
Jew and Gentiles found themselves at odds and in need of reconciliation. Christ’s cross is the climax of God’s plan to restore peace, fulfilling Old Testament prophecy. For Memorial Day, this text underscores Christ’s sacrifice as the foundation for all peace.
All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation.
Only Christ’s atonement could reconcile humanity to God. Christ’s atonement is vertical. In addition, it also fosters peace among people horizontally, and this dual reconciliation addresses both spiritual and social dimensions of peace.
Unlike earthly sacrifices, Christ’s death achieves peace without perpetuating violence, offering a model for Christian engagement in a conflicted world.
Seems like lately, we can’t go a week or two without a ship of some sort colliding with a famous bridge somewhere. In war, bridges are intentional targets, often cutting off access to troops or supply line. Yet Jesus sacrifice on the cross, is the ultimate bridge, restoring access to God and allowing for human reconciliation.
We are called to be Peacemakers
Christians receive God’s peace, through Christs. And in return we are called to be agents of reconciliation in a divided world.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.
If you think about it, Jesus’ message on the Mount, was completely countercultural from a Roman-occupied context. The Roman way was sought through power and might, whereby Jesus is calling for believers to embody “shalom.” We are called to pursue peace in honor of those who died for it.
As a mission, peacemaking is essential to Christian discipleship, reflecting God’s heart for reconciliation.
Memorial Day
Calls us to honor costly sacrifices for earthly freedom.
Calls us to celebrate Christ’s reconciling work on the cross.
Memorial Day isn’t just about remembering but also about living out the values of freedom and peace for which others died.
Christ’s reconciliation empowers us to extend forgiveness and unity, reflecting His peace in our lives.
The Cost of Freedom
In the quiet town of Havenwood, Virginia, the Memorial Day sun cast soft light over the cemetery, where flags stood sentinel over graves. Clara Thompson, a widow in her late sixties, knelt beside her son’s headstone: James E. Thompson, Sgt, US Army, 1968-1992. Jimmy had given his life in a distant war, and Clara carried the weight of that loss daily. But another wound ached deeper this morning—her estrangement from her daughter, Lena.
Five years ago, grief had driven a wedge between them. Clara, clinging to her faith and memories of Jimmy, couldn’t understand Lena’s need to leave Havenwood, to escape the shadow of her brother’s death. Lena, feeling unheard, had lashed out, and their words built a wall neither knew how to breach. Clara prayed nightly for reconciliation, leaning on Colossians 3:13: “Bear with each other and forgive one another.” Yet forgiveness felt distant.
Today, as Clara placed white roses—symbols of peace—at Jimmy’s grave, she saw Lena approaching, clutching red poppies. Clara’s heart stirred with hope and fear. Lena stopped a few feet away, her eyes hesitant but warm. “Mama,” she said, voice soft as a prayer.
“Lena,” Clara replied, her voice catching. Around them, the cemetery hummed with Memorial Day reverence—veterans saluting, families praying, children placing flags. It was a place to honor the cost of freedom, where sacrifices like Jimmy’s reminded Clara of Christ’s words in John 15:13: “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d be here,” Lena said, stepping closer. “I’ve been running from this—from you, from Jimmy. But I kept hearing Pastor John’s sermons in my head, about peace that surpasses understanding. I want that, Mama. I want us back.”
Clara’s eyes stung. She’d spent years nursing her pain, forgetting that God’s grace called her to forgive as she’d been forgiven. “I pushed you away,” she admitted. “I was so lost in losing Jimmy, I didn’t see you were grieving too. I’m sorry, Lena.”
Lena’s tears fell. “I’m sorry too. I thought leaving would heal me, but it only made me miss you more.” She knelt beside Clara, placing her poppies next to the roses. The flowers mingled, red and white, like a quiet covenant.
Clara reached for Lena’s hand, and Lena held tight. Together, they bowed their heads, praying silently for Jimmy, for each other, for peace. Clara whispered, “Jesus said, ‘In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.’ I reckon that includes our troubles too.”
Lena nodded, a small smile breaking through. “He paid the ultimate price for our freedom. Jimmy did too, in his way. Maybe we can honor them both by choosing love over anger.”
As “Taps” echoed across the cemetery, mournful yet hopeful, Clara and Lena stood, hands clasped. The graves around them spoke of sacrifice, but their touch spoke of reconciliation—a testament to the peace Christ offers, even in a world of loss. On this Memorial Day, they found freedom not just in remembering the fallen, but in forgiving each other, trusting God to heal what they could not.
