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United Church of Jaffrey
11/11/18
100 Years Ago
100 years ago, on this day, the Armistice was signed, ending the First World War.
On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, in the year of 1918, hostilities ceased along the front.
The historian John Buchan describes that morning like this:
“Officers had their watches in their hands, and the troops waited with the same grave composure with which they had fought.” As watch hands reached 11, “there came a second of expectant silence, and then a curious rippling sound, which observers far behind the front likened to the noise of a light wind. It was the sound of men cheering from the Vosges Mountains to the sea.”
A “curious rippling sound” that was “like the noise of a light wind.”
The exhalation of thousands of battle weary men, exhausted after years of fighting.
Surprised and relieved to still be alive.
The Assassin’s Bullet
One day recently my son Silas came up to me. He’d just gotten off the school bus.
“Hey Dad. Did you know that millions of people died because of one guy.”
I stopped what I was doing.
“Are you talking about the Archduke Francis Ferdinand?” I asked.
“Yeah, thats the guy.” Silas said. “Some guy killed him, and that started the First World War, and things were so bad after that, so then the second world war started.”
“That’s true.” I said. “Where did you learn that?”
“In social studies,” he said.
“Wow…” I said, somewhat taken aback.
Silas went off to do his own thing, but I was left to ponder the encounter.
I couldn’t believe it.
How old is Silas? I asked myself…
He’s 13 years old.
He’s in 8th grade.
When I was a kid, I wrote a little paper for my history class that was about the events that led to the outbreak of World War One.
I was thirteen years old.
I was in 8th grade.
I’m 53 now, so I wrote that paper 40 years ago.
But I still remember that name — or almost, turns out its Franz, not Francis. Archduke Franz Ferdinand.
The main reason I still remember that name, is because my mother and I had a conversation about it.
Its been a while, but I think that conversation went something like this:
“Hey Mom, have you ever heard about this guy, Archduke Francis Ferdinand?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “Did he have something to do with the First World War?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Some guy killed him, and that started the First World War, and things were so bad after that, so then the Second World War started.”
Well… I doubt my words were exactly the same as Silas’, but they might have been close.
Close enough, to make me feel, in 2018, like time had folded back to 1980.
And the whole thing with Archduke Franz Ferdinand is kind of breathtaking, when you think about it.
The idea that one person’s death could create a chain reaction that could result in not one, but two world wars— two world wars that could, together, claim the lives of roughly 140 million people…
That’s pretty astonishing…
Its hard to get your brain around.
And what of the 19 year-old Serbian Nationalist Gavrilo Princip, the assassin who killed the Archduke?
Surely he would never have dreamed that his act would trigger a series of events that would cause two world wars!
Is there a person on this planet whose life has not been affected by that instant — on June 28th, 1914 — when shots rang out in the streets of Sarajevo?
I am reminded of the words of Dr. King:
We are tied in a single garment of destiny.
Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.
Hebert Moser
Last Sunday, before the service began, I announced that I would put the word out among all of you, to see if, I could collect any stories you might have about the first World War.
Liz Littlefield went home and sent me an email later that same day. She wanted me to know about her long lost uncle, Harvey Moser.
My dad (Liz wrote) had an much older brother whom he never met. Harvey (at the age of 17 or 18) enlisted in the US Army at the beginning of WWI and fought in France. As the story was told to me, shortly after the Armistice, Harvey was in a large group of soldiers waiting to be shipped home. He had made friends with some MPs. One night when the MPs were called out to break up a fight, Harvey went along and was killed in the scuffle. To my knowledge, he is buried somewhere in France.
My dad was born the following spring. In keeping with Jewish tradition, Harvey’s memory was honored by naming a number of male relatives with “H” names: Harold, Hartley, Herman and Herbert (my dad).
So this November, Liz concludes, is not only the 100th anniversary of the end of the “Great War.” It is also the 100th anniversary of my Uncle Harvey’s passing.
Through no fault of his own, Liz’s father’s name has, woven into it, a historical legacy of violence and pain.
But his name would not have that pain built into it, were it not for Gavrilo Princip assassin’s bullet…
A bullet that was fired more then a hundred years ago…
We are tied in a single garment of destiny.
Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.
Small Islands
On Thursday, I received an email from Dax Bayard-Murray.
I don’t think anyone in my family has ever talked about World War 1, (he wrote) but on reflection it did have some pretty significant effects on my family.
In 1915, the United States invaded Haiti, where my family is from, and occupied it for 19 years. The official story was that the country was slipping into chaos after a number of political revolts, and that the US was restoring order. But there was also the fact that Germany had been very active in Haiti in the early twentieth century, and German companies were incredibly influential. While officially still neutral, the United States wanted to make sure that Germany wouldn’t be able to use Haiti as a base…
In 1917, the United States bought the Virgin Islands from Denmark, mostly because they didn’t want it to end up in German hands. Indeed, some of the same German companies that had been active in Haiti were also active in what was then called the Danish West Indies. Less than a week later the US declared war on Germany. The islanders themselves were never consulted, and to this day people in the Virgin Islands do not have the right to vote for President or have any representation in Congress or really any constitutional guarantee to citizenship.
Dax did not write with the intention of criticizing American Foreign Policy. After all, he wrote, my family went to the Virgin Islands seeking freedom from tyranny, and because it offered the safety of the Stars and Stripes. But I think it’s always important to remember the small places that were caught in the ripples of the great wars, and affected in ways people don’t normally imagine.
Dax’s refers to the immense sweep of human history. He speaks of how even small places like Haiti and the Virgin Islands, that seem insignificant on the world stage, are altered forever by the vying interests of more powerful geopolitical neighbors.
But we have been nurturing another idea — the idea that the immense geopolitical machinations, themselves, began with the single finger twitch of an overzealous 19 year old in a Balkan backwater.
And perhaps this is how we can bring today’s gospel lesson into focus.
Traditionally, the story of the widow’s mite has told us that the widow’s smile gift is significant because it represents a more profound sacrifice than the gifts of the rich people.
But todays considerations offer another possibility.
An act, no matter how small, can have immense implications.
And if the act is motivated by love, rather then hatred, perhaps the world can be changed.
Imagine a series events on the scale of the two world wars, but created and realized in love…
Is such a thing possible?
I’m not sure…
But Jesus thought so.
Amen.