Empty Chairs at Empty Tables
UU Fellowship of Midland, MI
May 27, 2007
Jane Thickstun

Reading

The reading is a passage by Anne Frank, taken from the Jewish girl’s famous WWII diary written when the family was hidden in a house in Amsterdam before they were discovered and taken to concentration camps, where Anne died.  The passage is from an entry dated July 15, 1944.

In spite of everything, I still believe
that people are really good at heart. 
I simply can’t build up my hopes on a foundation
consisting of confusion, misery, and death.
I see the world gradually being turned into a wilderness,
I hear the ever-approaching thunder, which will destroy us, too,
I can feel the suffering of millions, and yet,
if I look up into the heavens,
I think that it will all come right,
that this cruelty will end,
and that peace and tranquility will return again.
In the meantime, I must uphold my ideals,
for perhaps the time will come
when I shall be able to carry them out.
(Life Prayers, p. 125)

Sermon

            On Memorial Day, we honor those who died while serving in the military.  In November we honor veterans on Veterans Day, and on All Saint’s and All Soul’s Day, we honor all who have died.  But this day is specifically for those who died serving this country in the military.

            Why?  Why is this day declared a national holiday, a day off – ostensibly to visit and decorate the graves?

            There is a real sense in which they died for all of us, that they gave their lives for us.  Even if we didn’t or don’t believe in the cause they fight for, still these women and men have chosen to serve their nation in this way, and we, the people of the United States of America, are their nation.  This is a democracy, and the nation is its people, at least in principle.

            The song “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” that Roy sang comes from the musical Les Misérables.   It is sung by the character Marius at the end of the show. He sings it upon finding that he is the only one among the rebel students who has survived the attacks on their barricade, and asks that “his friends forgive him that he lives and they are gone.”

            Marius feels such despair, such loss.  You can hear it in the music, as well as the words.

            I see it as a fitting mourning song for our own sense of loss, for our own despair – despair over losing so many lives to war, over losing any lives to a conflict we may believe could have and should have been resolved without resort to violence.

            We have difficulty dealing with a conflict within our own country about our attitudes toward the war in Iraq – different opinions on the question whether this war is just, is necessary, is ethical. 

            None of us likes violence.  We all learn as children that killing is wrong.  Then we learn that it’s wrong for individuals, but if it’s state-sanctioned, it’s OK.

            States can kill in the form of wars and capital punishment.  The killing is justified as protection of the public from a potential harm.  There are other ways to protect, but they are much more difficult.

            Anne Frank didn’t choose to sacrifice her life for her nation, but she did die in a war.  She was sent to a concentration camp, and did not come out.  Her life was taken because she was Jewish, not because she did anything wrong.  It was, however, a state-sanctioned killing.

            And yet this young girl gives us hope.  She sees the devastation all around her, she hears the news and knows what is going on – knows that she and her family are likely to be killed, she feels the suffering of millions –

            And yet –

            in spite of everything, she still believes that people are really good at heart. 

            In spite of everything she sees, hears and feels, she believes it will all come right, that the cruelty will end, and that peace and tranquility will return again.

            What faith!  What uplifting, life-sustaining faith!  It is the kind of faith we need to keep from going under, to save us from hopelessness, to enable us to continue to act in the world with the belief that our actions make a difference.

            Anne upheld her ideals, but she didn’t get the chance to carry them out – at least not perhaps in the way she intended.  Her ideals, as expressed in her diary, however, have inspired millions.

            Whatever your ideals are, you have the chance to carry them out.  We are not school girls hidden away in a house in Amsterdam.  The time has come for us.  There is nothing in the way of our carrying out our ideals.

            Anne’s vision was of a world of peace and tranquility.  What is your vision?  Don’t we all wish to see peace and justice in our world?  As Unitarian Universalists, it is our sixth principle.

            A just world would be a peaceful world.  If everybody has what they need, if resources are distributed in a fair manner to everyone, what need would there be for fighting?

            We can achieve peace through justice.

            But does achieving justice ever require fighting?

            The friends of Marius thought so.  They had a vision of a new world – a “world reborn” – and they talked of revolution, they lit the flame of passion for their cause and rose with voices ringing.  I haven’t seen the musical, and I don’t know what their cause was, but I am willing to believe it was a worthy cause and that they sought to promote justice.  But they didn’t return, and Marius wonders if their sacrifice was worth it. 

            Are even the best of causes worth fighting for?  In terms of physical violence?  How do we decide if something is worth fighting for?  How do we decide if something is worth dying for?  How do we decide if something is worth killing for?

            Isn’t it true that peace is the way, as I believe it was Ghandi, said?  That we don’t achieve peace by waging war?  War is the opposite of peace.  We only achieve peace by peaceful means – by finding non-violent solutions to our conflicts. 

            Yet as another great leader, Martin Luther King, Jr., said, “there is no peace without justice.”  How can there be peace if inequities exist?  And isn’t it a fact of human nature that people will take what they can from those who have no power, or less power?  Doesn’t standing up to that aspect of human nature, to such abuses of power sometimes require violence?  Is it possible that that may sometimes be the only way to stop it?

            I don’t really believe that myself, but I know many people do.  And I have to wonder.

            But I believe with Anne Frank that people are really good at heart.  I think that’s another way of saying everyone has inherent worth and dignity.  We’re all trying our best to be the best that we can be, even though we’re all flawed to some degree, wounded by past hurts.  We all have the divine light inside that just gets buried sometimes to varying degrees, and it may take a lot of work to uncover it.  But it’s there.  And if we’re clever enough, we might be able to reach it, even in the most terrible despot.

            I just saw the movie, Freedom Writers, starring Hillary Swank, about a teacher in an inner-city school troubled by gang warfare, shootings and all kinds of disadvantages.  The teachers and administration believe that these kids can’t be reached, can’t be taught – that the most that can be done with them is to keep discipline in the classroom until they leave, many of them after their sophomore year.  But the teacher played by Swank manages to get through to these kids by letting them express their pain, describe their hurts, and by accepting them as they are.  They manage to understand each other, they manage to get along with the other ethnic groups represented in the classroom, they manage to read books others thought they couldn’t read, they manage to drop their gang affiliations, they manage to do the right thing even when it is difficult, and they manage to graduate from high school and some even go on to college.

            The movie is based on a true story.  Somehow this woman managed to get through the pain and despair of these kids’ lives and tap the divine potential within all of them.

            We all have this divine potential.  And when we kill, if we kill, whether for self-defense or food, whether we as a nation kill for self-defense or oil, we need to remember that we are killing something divine, something sacred.  A human being, a living being, a divine light.

            We need to question whether our causes are worth it.  Or might we end up like Marius, mourning the empty chairs at empty tables where our friends will sing no more. 

            We often don’t know anyone serving in today’s military.  They are not our friends who serve, and we can feel detached.  But their sacrifice is not to be taken lightly.  They believe they are doing the right thing, and they are willing to give their lives for it.  We have a voluntary service, so it is a choice for those who serve.  Yes, that means that those who serve have few other options.  All the more reason to honor their sacrifice. 

            We can honor the memory of those who gave their lives in the service of their nation, of our nation, while still upholding our ideals and striving for a world of peace and justice.  Indeed, I believe that’s what we have to do.

The Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Midland is recognized by the Unitarian Universalist Association as a Welcoming Congregation. We welcome, affirm, promote and celebrate the full participation of all persons in all of our activities without regard to age, gender, sexual orientation, race or any other such category of exclusion.

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