What Soldiers Know About Love

I haven’t read the Bible in a while—unless you count the few times a week that I read the daily scripture sent to my phone from the Bible app. Usually, I don’t think much about them. I read them in passing, say “hmm,” and go about my day unaffected. I’m a horrible Christian, I suppose. In my defense, I’ve read the Bible multiple times cover to cover. I studied theology extensively in college and spent several years writing sermons to preach to strangers all over the Southeast. I’ve lived many lives. I digress.

Usually, when that scripture is digitally sent to me by technological magic, the verse is in the New International Version. There’s no real reason why I chose that translation—it’s just the version I initially picked up. It makes sense to me. When I study, I usually compare scripture with no fewer than three other translations, sometimes many more. None of this really matters. Scholars and lay preachers will debate endlessly over their version of choice, dying on translation hills I’m not willing to die on. I just don’t care.

I got a semi-negative comment on last week’s post that got under my skin a bit, if I’m being honest. But it also got me thinking. The comment was in response to my article about Imposter Syndrome in Global War on Terror veterans. That article discussed how many of us don’t like to be thanked for our service for various reasons—often because we’ve been treated as show ponies, paraded around by organizations using veterans for social clout.

The comment I received, almost a week later, read:
“Have no interest in war, fear, military, guns… I’ll never say thanks for your service… Nope. Not from me. If you want to discuss peace, love, and compassion, yes please sign me up.”

I responded the best way I knew how:
“Lol, well ironically, you have the right to that opinion because people with guns in prior wars—who were probably really scared and loved their country—defended your freedom of expression.”

This brings me to one of my favorite scriptures. It comes from a translation of the Bible I don’t often read. John 15:13 in the New Living Translation says, “There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” In this verse, Jesus is speaking to his disciples and alluding to his coming sacrifice. He considers them friends—no longer slaves or servants but equals. They were co-laborers in the same cause, a cause that ultimately resulted in the violent death of Jesus. They picked up His mission to carry the burden of peace—a peace that sometimes requires sacrifice, a sacrifice that may involve violence and fear, culminating in a compassion we have yet to fully understand.

See, Jesus didn’t just die for his friends. He died for all of us. That was his stated mission. None of us deserve that compassionate act of war against our sinfulness. Yet, he took up our shame and wore it as righteousness. We can all agree that war, fear, and violence are bad things—that’s an easy position to take. Soldiers at war often don’t agree politically. They don’t share the same religious beliefs. They come from different socioeconomic backgrounds, upbringings, cultures, and races. Yet, they are unified in purpose—bonded by a mission greater than themselves, by blood thicker than familial ties. A love worth dying for. A love few can understand.

They are brothers—and sisters—who would lay their lives down accordingly. That’s beautiful. That’s real love. Perhaps it’s something only a soldier who’s put their life on the line, in community with others in those same crosshairs, can truly understand. This is why comments like the one I received both enrage and sadden me. People are often too willing to assert their biased opinions without considering the cost. They can’t see the bigger picture. Conversely, I am eternally thankful to live in a country where we can state our opinions—even dumb ones—freely and without fear of political retribution. We truly are living in the land of the great.

No one who has ever been to war wishes for more of that anguish. Yet soldiers often miss the bonds made in those violent times. “Love covers a multitude of sins,” Saint Peter once said. So, to my misguided commenter—who will never thank a service member—that is your right. I’m glad you chose to flex that freedom. Someone still confronted violence on your behalf, whether you wanted them to or not. They rose to a greater calling. They were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice because of a love you may not yet understand. I’ll thank them for you.

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Stan Lake is a writer, photographer, and filmmaker currently living in Bethania, North Carolina with his wife Jess and their house full of animals. He split his time growing up between chasing wildlife and screaming on stages in hardcore bands you’ve never heard of. He has been published by Dead Reckoning Collective, The Havok Journal, Reptiles Magazine, Lethal Minds Journal, and many others. He filmed and directed a documentary called “Hammer Down” about his 2005 deployment in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom in with Alpha Battery 5-113^th of the NC Army National Guard. You can find his books, collected works, and social media accounts at www.stanlakecreates.com

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.