On Jan. 20, as I watched the inauguration of Joseph R. Biden, the 46th president of the United States, I was reminded of something that occurred years ago.
"Here we stand," said the newly minted president as he offered his acceptance speech, "across the Potomac from Arlington Cemetery where heroes who gave the last full measure of devotion rest in eternal peace ..." My mind floated back to years ago when I officiated at a burial at Arlington.
I was pastoring a church in Baltimore, Md., and one of our parishioners died just three days past her 39th birthday. Her grieving husband called to give me the sad news. I was soon to learn he was not just mourning his great loss, but was at a loss as to what to do next. In the course of our conversation, he told me he had no money with which to bury his wife. Could I help him in that regard? I promised to see what I could do.
I had developed a friendship with a local funeral director, whom I had found to be a very caring and compassionate person. So I called, asking if there was anything that could be done. I pledged to do what I could through the good graces of our congregation. Was there any consideration he might give to this grieving family?
We worked on some details, bringing the cost down as much as possible, but he told me that he didn't think any of the local burial sites would be quite as understanding about such things.
And then he asked the pivotal question: "Is her husband by any chance a veteran?" "I don't know," I told him, "but I'll ask." I did, and he was. So my funeral director friend made some calls resulting in permission for her to be buried at Arlington.
That also meant that when the time came, the husband too would be buried with his wife.
Think about it, if you will. For the last 36-plus years her body has been in repose alongside presidents and generals and all manner of dignitaries, along with the bodies of those who gave their lives in service to our country, those "heroes who gave the last full measure of devotion," as Mr. Biden reminded us.
Repeatedly since Jan. 6 when insurrectionists stormed the Capitol, we have heard it referred to as a violated sacred place. And while I certainly agree, and watched in horror with many of you, I view the ground across the Potomac to be even more sacred.
And I see it as a powerful symbol of our nation.
We are white, Black, brown, and otherwise. We are Christian, Jew, Muslim, and otherwise. We are Democrat, Republican, Independent, and otherwise. We are straight, gay, and otherwise. As diverse as God has created us, we are (or at least can and should be) unified in one respect: We value and cherish the freedom our Constitution provides us, and we can believe in one another and our common values, even when we don't agree exactly on how to go about doing it.
I would ask that you let Arlington National Cemetery be a symbol just as real as the American flag or the Capitol or the Constitution. We are not all alike, but one day we will all reside in the same earth from which we have come.
People of faith believe there is more--much more--beyond this earthly existence. But in the meantime, it is our responsibility to make our earthly one as redemptive as possible. And that falls to each of us as we continue this journey together.
That is the America I believe in.
Randy H. Hyde, a retired minister and pastor, lives in Little Rock.