Is Community Service Dying? Veterans, Purpose, and the Call to Serve Locally

Editorial Note: My name is Charlie Faint, and I am the owner of The Havok Journal. The author of this article, Matt Trevathan, has been a friend of mine for over 30 years, from back in our college days at Mercer University. Matt and I were close then, and now. We graduated from the same school. We attended each others’ weddings. And he supported me—and his brother Brett and countless other veterans—during our deployments to Iraq, Afghanistan, and elsewhere around the world, decade after decade. He is not only a good friend to me, but to the entire Veteran Community.

Matt has also written a lot for The Havok Journal, on a wide range of topics, from tech to politics to current event. His last two articles about the conflict in Venezuela were amazing pieces of journalism.

And now, he gave us this.

This piece was personal to me, for many reasons. First of all, I’m quoted in it as “Chuck” (a nickname that Matt is trolling me with here, because he knows I don’t like it 😉 ). Additionally, I know some of the other veterans mentioned in this piece, and even if I didn’t, I’ve seen this same sort of sentiment so many times. I wrote about similar themes here on The Havok Journal, such as “Bro-ing Alone” and “The Loneliness of the Military Professional.” Many other veterans have penned related thoughts as well. To me, this story is about the importance of not only veterans, but any of us who take their work seriously, to have a “second mission” after their service—whatever that may be—ends.

Thanks, Matt, both for writing this article (and so many others), and for being a friend to my family, our Veteran Community, and to me.

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Dave stands about five-foot-ten, with a clean military haircut—tight rather than high—that still clearly reflects the influence of his service on his civilian life. His Scout uniform is neatly tucked, each patch placed with deliberate precision. His neckerchief is folded into a perfect triangle and secured by a woggle he recently finished himself. The tattoos on his arms quietly tell the story of his past life as an Army Ranger.

“My mission has changed… I found my purpose,” Dave said softly, his eyes filling with tears.

The fire before us was slowly dying, fed by hundreds of American flags retired earlier that evening in a formal ceremony. Flames and smoke rose and intertwined, performing a slow tango in the darkness as we sat watching in silence. After a moment, Dave spoke again.

“Since retiring from the military, I’ve been looking for my purpose—and I finally found it. This is where I’m supposed to be.”

I could tell this struggle had weighed heavily on him since leaving the Army. Sharing that realization meant something deeply personal to him, and it did to me as well. Yet it also left behind a lingering question—one that has stayed with me for the past two years: Why do we serve our communities? Why do people choose to give their time as Scoutmasters, coaches, and members of community boards, often with little recognition or reward?

That question naturally led to another: Is community service dead—or dying?

I continue to ask this because of the prevailing political climate in our country, one increasingly defined by “us versus them.” In such an environment, ideological battles often overshadow the simple act of getting things done together for the common good.

Data suggests this concern is not unfounded. Volunteer participation dropped by approximately seven percentage points during the COVID-19 pandemic, reaching a low of around 20 percent, though it rebounded somewhat in 2023. Recent figures show that about 28 percent of Americans formally volunteer with an organization or nonprofit, while roughly 54 percent engage in informal acts of service—helping neighbors with errands or watching children, for example.

When compared to the 1980s and 1990s, however, the decline is unmistakable. Participation rates during that era hovered between 40 and 45 percent. Conversations with several respondents revealed that many noticed the drop most sharply during and after the pandemic. Yet both the pandemic and today’s political climate merely accelerated a trend that had already been in motion for decades. Understanding this longer trajectory helps explain why opinions differ so widely on whether community service is truly dying—or simply changing form.

Before posing this question more broadly, I asked my friend John why he volunteers. John is a retired businessman in the Atlanta area who spends most of his time mentoring youth. From Scouting to supporting public schools, John seems to be everywhere. His positive demeanor and genuine care for others inspire those around him to do better.

When I asked him why he volunteers, he replied, “I’m looking at the future, and the best way to ensure it is by making an impact on our youth.”

As we spoke, it became clear that John didn’t believe community service was dying at all. For him, the way to keep it alive was simple: be a servant. His response encouraged me to open the question to my broader online community, and the responses poured in.

One of the first came from my friend Chris. I thought Chris’s perspective was especially important because he volunteers as a firefighter and holds political views very different from my own. Even in college, Chris seemed destined for service, never questioning his decision to join ROTC.

When asked why he volunteers, Chris explained:

“The first reason is that I enjoy it. Fighting fires and running an ambulance are challenging and fun. I’m not a thrill-seeker or danger junkie, but I get a lot of personal satisfaction from doing something few others do. The second reason is that I have a strong civic sense that men should serve their community. A man’s worth isn’t money or fame or going to church on Sunday and being a self-centered jerk the rest of the week—it’s how they serve others. A lot of people talk the talk. I wanted skin in the game.”

When I asked Chris whether he thought community service was dying, his answer was far less optimistic.

“I don’t think people don’t want to serve,” he said. “It’s that the thought never even occurs to them anymore. We don’t have a shared moral or civic framework. Churches have become sources of corruption or ideology. Trust in media, government, and expertise has eroded. We’ve glorified individual freedom without responsibility, to the point where a self-aggrandizing billionaire can enrich himself by billions and half the country cheers it on. Why would someone sacrifice their time in an environment like that?”

In contrast, my friend Chuck offered a different perspective. In college, Chuck viewed military service as something expected of him rather than a calling. He admits that if circumstances had been even a little different, he might have taken another path. Yet later in life, after his time in uniform ended, Chuck chose to serve his community in a different way: as a volunteer deputy sheriff.

When asked why, he answered simply: “I decided to volunteer as a part-time deputy after I retired from the Army because I think America is still worth fighting for.”

I didn’t need to ask further to know that Chuck’s an optimist when it comes to his country and service to it.

“Life under the previous presidential administration was difficult in a lot of ways,” he continued. “But cynicism is the easiest thing in the world, and one of the most unproductive. I made a deliberate choice to do better. And like Mark Twain said, ‘Patriotism is loving your country all the time, and your government when it deserves it.’”

“I never stopped believing in America, even when I didn’t think our government deserved it,” he concluded. “I just wish more Americans—especially those who would rather burn our country down than build it up—felt that way too.”

My final conversation was with my friend Dean. Dean has always been involved in service, whether through his church or coaching his children’s basketball teams. He grew up watching his parents serve their community, and those values were instilled in him and his brothers. Like everyone else I spoke with, Dean emphasized leading by example.

When I asked why people serve, he reflected:

“I think many people are hungry for a faith that’s real, not just theoretical. James 1:27 says true religion includes caring for the vulnerable. When people see real need—a struggling family, a lonely neighbor—they feel that nudge to do something.”

For Dean, faith is the foundation of service, and it is woven intentionally into family life. For his family, that means serving together at church, inviting their children into service rather than lecturing about it, and sharing stories of small moments where service mattered.

When I asked Dean whether he believed community service was dying, he answered honestly—but with hope:

“I think service is under pressure, but it’s not dying. Our culture is busy and distracted. But I also see younger generations longing for meaning, justice, and mercy. Galatians 6:9 reminds us not to grow weary in doing good. God calls us to faithfulness, not statistics.”

So here I am, back at the campfire with my friend Dave, watching the embers glow. Is the flame of community service dying, or is it simply waiting to be rekindled? The honest answer is that the fire needs tending. The flame is still there—but it could go either way.

The question, then, is how we build the fire.

I think of Dave and the message he consistently shares with the young men he mentors: leadership begins with service. He speaks often about servant leadership—about meeting needs, showing up, and leading by example. Across all of my conversations, one truth became unmistakably clear: service is not about politics, recognition, or agreement. It is about choosing to lead through action, in our families and in our communities.

Dave, Chris, and Chuck each found renewed purpose after military service by continuing to serve in civilian life. Though their perspectives on the future of community service differ, their actions speak louder than their opinions. John invests in the next generation. Chris runs toward danger. Chuck protects his neighbors. Dean raises his children to serve alongside him.

Community service may be changing. It may be quieter, less organized, and less visible than it was in past generations. But it is not dead. It lives wherever people choose responsibility over comfort, action over argument, and service over self.

In a divided culture, servant leaders do not wait for consensus—they show up. And in doing so, they remind us that the most enduring form of leadership begins not with authority, but with service.

If you are searching for a purpose beyond yourself, look first to your community. Make a difference where your impact can be felt most—close to home. Start small. Volunteer for one thing. Bring someone with you; service is easier, and richer, when shared with friends and family. And don’t wait until you “feel ready.” Your simple yes might be the spark that inspires someone else to say yes too.

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Matt is the SVP of Technology and Architecture at Nymbus, a SaaS banking provider. He has traveled extensively in the United States and overseas for business and recreation. His travels include India, Mexico, Europe, China, and Japan. Matt is a prolific writer and storyteller whose work bridges innovation, global travel, and meaningful human connection. A graduate of Mercer University with a Bachelor’s degree in Computer Science, and the holder of over 270 patents, Matt’s career spans technology leadership, creative exploration, and community engagement. His articles blend technical insight with a traveler’s curiosity, appealing to readers across technology, travel, and creative communities.

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.