Memorial Day: Reflecting on the Cost of Freedom

(photo of Barrancas National Cemetery at NAS Pensacola)

Memorial Day is more than a Monday holiday bookended by backyard cookouts and summer travel. It is a sacred summons that encourages us to stop long enough to ask, “What did our freedom cost?” and “Who paid the price?”

Freedom is among the most beloved words in the American vocabulary. We speak of it freely, sing about it proudly, and assume it instinctively. But freedom has never been free. It has always been purchased at great cost, with courage, with sacrifice, and with blood. The men and women memorialized on this day knew that cost intimately, and they paid it anyway.

In a culture addicted to comfort and allergic to cost, we need Memorial Day more than ever. Not merely as a ceremony, but as a confrontation, a kind of holy interruption that calls us back to what truly matters. As President Calvin Coolidge once said, “The nation which forgets its defenders will be itself forgotten.”

This Memorial Day, consider these reflections on the price of freedom:

  • Freedom was secured by ordinary people who did extraordinary things.  We tend to mythologize our heroes, polishing their stories until they gleam. But most of those who gave their lives were not statues or monuments. They were sons and daughters, husbands and wives, neighbors and friends who chose duty over self. In the struggle to preserve and protect our freedom, ordinary men and women rose to stand in the gap. We owe them our remembrance.
  • The cost of freedom is written in Scripture as well as in history.  The ancient world understood that great things are purchased at great cost. The prophet Isaiah spoke of the servant who would be “wounded for our transgressions” and “crushed for our iniquities” (Isaiah 53:5). The Apostle Paul, writing from a Roman prison, urged believers to stand firm in “the freedom with which Christ has set us free” (Galatians 5:1), knowing that such freedom was not theoretical—it was paid for. Whether the arena is spiritual or civic, freedom requires a sacrifice.
  • Gratitude is the only worthy response to sacrifice.  John F. Kennedy said, “As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.”  Wearing a flag pin or posting a patriotic meme is easy. But genuine gratitude is more demanding. It asks us to live with integrity, to vote with conscience, to serve our communities, and to refuse to squander what others died to give us. Gratitude, rightly practiced, is not just a feeling. Rather, it is a discipline.
  • Grief and honor belong together on this day.  For thousands of Gold Star families, Memorial Day is not a celebration, but an anniversary of loss. An empty chair at the dinner table. A folded flag on the mantel. A name etched in marble. We honor them best not by turning away from that grief but by standing in it with them. The Psalmist wrote, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His faithful servants” (Psalm 116:15). What is precious to God should not be passed over lightly by us.
  • The next generation must learn the cost or will never know the value.  Ronald Reagan warned with prophetic clarity: “Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same.”  Our children will not inherit a passion for freedom by accident. They will inherit it from us or they will not inherit it at all. Take them to a veterans’ cemetery. Read them the letters of soldiers who wrote home from the front. Tell the stories. Sing the hymns. Show them that some things are worth dying for, precisely because they are worth living for.

There is an old hymn of the faith that begins, “When I survey the wondrous cross.” Isaac Watts understood that remembering a sacrifice—truly beholding its cost—changes the one who remembers. This Memorial Day, may we survey what has been given on our behalf. May it humble us. May it move us. May it change us.

This Memorial Day, let us do more than enjoy a 3-day weekend. Let us pause at a grave marker. Let us speak the names. Let us teach our children that the flag flying over their school and their town square was purchased by men and women who chose to stand between danger and those they loved. Let us recommit ourselves to a life lived in appreciation for that gift.

Freedom is not free. But it is ours. May we never take it for granted.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who currently serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife reside on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)

Rediscovering Our Belief in “Liberty and Justice for All” — and Living into It

When I was in the 3rd grade, long before our coal-heated elementary school had an intercom, I remember Mrs. Pirkle, our teacher, would lead us to stand at attention, face the flag, and recite the Pledge of Allegiance. For many Americans, these words roll off the tongue as familiar as the melody of the national anthem: “…with liberty and justice for all.”

We often recite this phrase at school assemblies, civic ceremonies, and public gatherings. Yet in a time when division is deep, and trust is fractured, we must ask ourselves: Do we still believe those words? And more importantly, are we truly living into them?

“Liberty and justice for all” is more than a tagline; it’s a guiding principle. It reflects the highest aspirations of a nation committed to freedom, not just for the privileged, but for every citizen. It is both a pledge we recite and a promise we must embody.

The social contract that binds us together as citizens of these United States is based on the common good of the community, and not the advancement of one individual over another, one class of people over another, or one ethnicity of people over another. Woodrow Wilson contended, “America is not anything if it consists of each of us. It is something only if it consists of all of us.”

To reclaim this belief is to recommit ourselves to a shared vision: a society where opportunity is not determined by zip code, and dignity is not dictated by skin tone, belief system, portfolio size, or political affiliation.

“Liberty and justice for all” is more than a theory; it is an ongoing pursuit. One historical moment that illustrates this pursuit is the courageous action of Fannie Lou Hamer, a Mississippi sharecropper who became a powerful voice in the civil rights movement. After being denied the right to vote and facing brutal opposition, Hamer famously testified before the 1964 Democratic National Convention: “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.”

Her words ignited the conscience of a nation. Hamer didn’t ask for special treatment. She asked that the promise of “liberty and justice for all” include her, too. Her story reminds us that liberty requires vigilance, and justice demands action.

Justice is more than a courtroom verdict; it is a spiritual mandate. Amos 5:24 demands, “But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream.” Justice isn’t confined to verdicts and legislation. It is manifest in the way we provide food, clothing, housing, education, and healthcare to the “least of these.” Justice insists that all people deserve to be seen, heard, and respected, especially the disadvantaged and the underprivileged.

Likewise, liberty is not simply the absence of ethical and moral restraint, but the presence of opportunity coupled with a call to responsibility. It’s the freedom to speak, worship, and live without fear of marginalization.

Coretta Scott King insisted, “Freedom is never really won. You earn it and win it in every generation.”

“Liberty and justice for all” doesn’t end with us; it starts with us. Rediscovering liberty and justice involve both public policy and personal practice. It begins in our homes, our churches, our voting booths, and our daily conversations. It starts when we examine our assumptions, expand our circles, and speak out when the voices of others are silenced.

It begins when a teacher advocates for underserved students. When a community leader ensures fair access to resources. When a neighbor stands up for the rights of an immigrant neighbor. When a local church hosts a refugee family. When your Bible study group or small group gets involved in prison ministry. Or when your mission group sponsors and supports victims of human trafficking.

It continues when we advocate for fair and just legislation to protect and preserve the rights of all individuals, even those with whom we disagree. And when some of our representatives and leaders from both sides of the aisle suffer from rapid-onset constitutional amnesia, we need to vigorously and vehemently remind them that, since we were children, before we knew the difference between a Democrat or Republican, we pledged to pursue liberty and justice for all.

By the way, in the middle of my 3rd grade year, schools in Alabama were integrated. It was a tense time, especially in the Deep South. However, I cannot imagine a teacher doing a better job of introducing new friends of color into our classroom. Although some of us had been cautioned at home about getting too close to our new friends, once we got to school, Mrs. Pirkle led us all in starting the day with the Pledge of Allegiance.

Across the years, I have preached that we all stand on level ground before the cross, a core belief that determines how I treat others. While buses were being burned and churches were being bombed across my home state, in our little classroom, Mrs. Pirkle helped us understand that we all stand on level ground before the flag, because we are a nation that believes in “liberty and justice for all.”

Independence Day calls us to more than celebration. It calls us to conviction. It calls us to remember that our work is not done when the fireworks fade. We are called to build a future where the final words of our pledge aren’t just recited—they are realized.

And if we are bold enough to believe in “liberty and justice for all,” we must also be brave enough to live and serve in ways that make it true.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who currently serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife live on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama

Heal Our Divisions: A Prayer for Independence Day 2024

On this Independence Day, we thank you for the gift of freedom, for the courage of those who fought to secure it, and for the opportunity to live in “the land of the free and home of the brave.”

Lord, we remember the sacrifices made by countless individuals who laid down their lives to establish and protect our liberty. May their bravery and dedication never be forgotten, and may we honor their memory by living in ways that honor their sacrifice.

We also pray for those around the world who do not yet enjoy freedom but live under threat and in fear of harsh and unjust regimes. And we pray for those who are fighting for their freedom even now that they may be victorious.

Especially today, we pray for our nation, asking for your guidance and wisdom for our leaders. Grant them the discernment to make just and righteous decisions that uphold the values of freedom and equality for all. Inspire us as freedom-loving citizens to engage actively and responsibly in our civic duties, building a culture of mutual respect and understanding.

During this season of celebration, we are also deeply burdened. Regardless of our personal ideology or perspective, we are concerned about things like the abuse of political power, the threat of terrorism, the divisiveness of harsh and misleading rhetoric, a lack of civil discourse, a growing sense of moral anarchy, the escalation of war, and the possibility of another natural disaster. We have an elevated sense of anxiety about the leadership of our government, the stability of our economy, and the future of our world.

And we confess that these anxieties all too frequently divert us from our mission to care for the “least of these” among us and to “love mercy, act justly, and walk humbly” with you.

We ask, O God, that you bless our land with a revival of unity. Heal the divisions that separate us and let us find common ground in our shared love for this country and the freedoms it represents. May we always strive to extend these blessings to those who are oppressed and marginalized, both within our borders and beyond.

Bless this land and its people. May our actions reflect your love and grace, and may we use our freedom to serve you and others with compassion, integrity, and humility.

Because you are the freedom-loving God, lead us to exercise our freedom responsibly and to pursue “liberty and justice for all” people across our nation and around the globe.

We pray in the strong name of the One who came to make us free indeed. Amen.