“Send me?”

I watched the President’s Memorial Day speech today, and though I sincerely like the man, I’ve got to call him out. As one born in the 60′s, I first became aware of the global community of humanity at the peak of the Civil Rights movement, in the thick of the Vietnam War. I was a Navy brat in CoaCoa Beach, Florida living on Patrick Air Force base the first time I was ever befriended by teenagers who were not members of my family. I was always a kid who rode my bike many streets farther than my parents ever knew, and often found myself sitting with teens they smoked their weed and talked about their fears concerning the inevitability of the draft. I remember one day in particular when I sat in a bedroom with 5 teenage boys of varying ages, in a room that was lit only by a black light and the flame of their zippo lighter. It is an especially vivid visual memory. The walls were painted flat black and had florescent paint splattered everywhere… some even on the ceiling and some even splashed out over the florescent anti-war posters of peace signs, and Hendrix, and even a few pieces of Beatles’ art. Most memorable of all was the word “LOVE” painted boldly across the wall in an artistic graffiti styling. Yet even this homemade art was marred by random splashes of red paint. It was obvious that the kid who called this bedroom home had been through many waves of emotions in that room, and his desperation and sense of futility glowed with more fury on his face and in his voice than his room could have ever revealed. Sadly, there was no talk of God or hope… just anger and fear. These were fellow military kids, raised like me on the great bases of the Vietnam era where we all knew several kids who had lost their fathers in the war… and watched all of them immediately move away, never to be seen again, as once their fathers were dead they were no longer welcome to live on base with the rest of us. I never really knew where any of these kids were going, but I assumed it was back to their mother’s birthplace to seek support from family. Had my father died at that time, I would have been sent back to my hometown of Boston where all my beloved cousins still lived, so I didn’t see that as a bad deal… let me explain.

My father was always away at sea in those days so I barely knew him, but I knew all too well that he constantly cheated on my mother, so I remember wishing he would die at war — to end my mother’s suffering and to send me home to Boston. But on that day in the black room with my new teen friends, for the first time I realized that my father was just one torpedo from a horrific death that would tear my world to pieces, and it changed me a bit. Partly because I genuinely loved my dad and wanted only for him to stop sinning against my mother, but mostly because I could see what the war was doing to the teens of that generation… especially the lost boys in that black room.

Within a few months of that very memorable day the Navy moved my family to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. It was 1971, and though I was suddenly thrust onto the most beautiful spot on planet earth I was also seeing daily evidence of the horrors of war like never before… not just through an increased number of school mates who were losing their fathers in the war every week, but also through the living monuments of WWII death that remained in their un-resting places in the infamous harbor. I had a daily view of the USS Arizona monument and the 1000+ dead sailors it held in its watery graveyard, which laid just a few hundred yards from the balcony of our little apartment. I was just an 8 year old, but I was already dreading the day I too would be drafted and sent to die in a jungle somewhere, as my teenage friends at Pearl Harbor far surpassed my friends back in CoaCoa where their sense of fatalistic futility was concerned. They spoke as if God Himself was behind all this horror, and they lived as if a trip to play “Vietnam roulette” was an inescapable reality. For most teens of that day, they were right.

40 years later as I watched President Obama give his Memorial Day speech from the Arlington National Cemetery, I was reminded that young “Barry” also lived on the tiny island of Oahu during my years there. I’ve often searched my memory banks for times I might have played ball with him in little league, or maybe splashed around with him on the formerly blood stained beaches around Honolulu. Being a half-breed myself, I easily remember several half-breed kids of the black/white combination who like Barrack were just a couple years older than me, so maybe I had a brush or two with him way back then… but one thing I know… young Barry was also a child exposed to the daily horrors of wars past and present and likely knew many more kids who lost their dads to Vietnam than I ever had. Oahu was the gateway to the war… the paradise doorway to death in a land not so far away. So as I listened to the President today read from Isaiah 6:8, “Whom shall I send, And who will go for Us?” …in the context of those service men and women who bravely stood up and said, “Here am I! Send me…” my first response was wracked with emotion as I teared up in mourning for all those teens — many whom I knew as kids and played with at military bases across the USA — who either by choice or force found themselves bravely facing their death before their lives had even begun. I honor them today and every day… and sincerely pray for their families’ healings. They faced horrors only a genuine veteran of foreign wars can ever grasp… and no movie nor book can even scratch the surface of the depth of their suffering as they faced death or dismemberment on a minute to minute basis. If this is you…. I want to thank you for your bravery while still just young men and women… sincerely, I thank you. But as I continued listening to the President’s speech it quickly occurred to me that no matter how poetic and emotionally charged President Obama’s use of Isaiah’s words were on first blush, it is a tragic misuse of the Holy text, for God was not calling men to die in wars for the sake of nations in that verse, but to lay down their lives in the spiritual battle for the sake of His Kingdom… not death of flesh and bone while attempting to kill the enemy of a different race or creed, but death of self to battle the enemy of our souls. One “might” feel the President deserves a pass for misinterpreting this critical verse, but not if you expect him to have simply cracked the bible to read its point blank explanation in the very next verse… Isaiah 6:9-10, which most scholars agree is the most important verse in the entire book of Isaiah, as (by no mere coincidence) this is the verse Jesus most powerfully quoted for its profoundly deep meaning and purpose for anyone who would claim to be His follower. See here what Isaiah wrote as the Lord’s instructions for him once he answered “Send me”:

⁹ He said, “Go and tell this people:

“‘Be ever hearing, but never understanding;
be ever seeing, but never perceiving.’
¹⁰ Make the heart of this people calloused;
make their ears dull
and close their eyes.
Otherwise they might see with their eyes,
hear with their ears,
understand with their hearts,
and turn and be healed.” (NIV)

As you’ll see in your own study, Jesus quoted these words when explaining why so many will hear his Gospel, but not understand… and thereby refuse to be transformed (healed, born-again) as He commanded for anyone who would hope to become His follower.  See Matthew 13:9-17, Mark 4:9-20, Luke 8:9-15, for direct quotations of Jesus’s own use of Isaiah’s words. See also John 12:37-41 for the apostle John’s use of Isaiah 6:9-10 to emphasize this correct interpretation in the Gospel he penned. And for anyone that would erroneously say Jesus was speaking only to the Jews, see Acts 28:23-28 and Romans 11:1-10 where the Apostle Paul made clear this most critical element of the Gospel message was also for the Gentiles (the rest of us), and even inferred that Gentiles like the President and myself should be more inclined to listen and understand and turn to be healed, as we were not born into the yoke of the old covenant subjected to the “hardened” followers of Moses. In these verses Paul also made clear that God continues to preserve a remnant among the Jews who would understand, and turn to be healed — himself included  – several of whom I have the honor of calling brothers in Christ today. One would think verses from Isaiah that were most often quoted by Jesus and the Apostles would be near and dear to the heart of any legitimate disciple of Christ. Yes?

Today, as I honor the death of so many from the generation that preceded my own, and the suffering of the young people from my daughter’s generation who are dying today in foreign lands… I send out this plea and prayer to young Barry Obama. Mr. President, don’t you remember? Didn’t you too see the watery tombs that rest just a few yards from the beaches you and I played on as children? Don’t you too still hear the cries of our childhood friends who lost their dads during those horrible days? You keep saying you love the Lord and are a Christian… but I’ve never heard you refer to yourself as one who has been born again in Christ, as surely your life and your words reveal that such a transformation has yet to happen in you, or else when you read Isaiah or the words of Christ from the Gospels you wouldn’t so egregiously misuse or twist their meaning, but would “see with your eyes, and hear with your ears, and understand with your heart, and return and be healed.” Healed of your lukewarm devotion to Christ…. healed of your tendency to misuse or “strain out” snippets of scripture to tickle ears… healed of your tendency to let politics trump the agenda of the One you call GOD… healed of your ignorance to the teachings of Christ and the true reason He has given you the favor to find yourself as the leader of the secular world. I pray you crucify “self” and pick up your cross while you are still in this most powerful office, and be the first President in American history to obey Christ at all cost, where even your most recent predecessors who each claimed to be evangelical Christians so miserably failed… to endure the persecution that would come from both the left and the right… to disregard how others would demonize you for rising to the highest calling of the One you call GOD… to take the words of Christ whispered into your ear and begin shouting them from the rooftops as Jesus commanded… to love our enemies… to turn the other cheek…. to put the needs of the widows and orphans of war ahead of historic policy (instead of forcing them from their home and leaving them in a state of destitution despite their great loss and sacrifice)… to put an end to interests of the rich and powerful overriding the interests of the least… the interests of Christ… to finally disregard the “cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches”… to once and for all begin to serve just ONE master… the only Master… not the Master plus your job, but only Him… for the salvation of your soul… for the redemption of our nation and the nation of Israel… until the day that Isaiah prophesied… and Jesus promised…. the day we “make war no more.” Barrack…. be ye transformed as the little child… remember the heart God gave you when you were still little Barry… and be truly born again as a new creature in Christ who will never again show off your phylacteries of your memorized scriptures, but instead will live the Gospel as one chosen to take up your cross and follow HIM, and Him alone. The Lord is asking you Mr. President… “Whom shall I send, And who will go for Us?” Will it be you? Or will you too put your hand to the plow but continue looking back… serving two masters? He’s calling you Barry. Amen, and AMEN.