Yea, Though I Walk Through The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death....

OK, I just returned from Gettysburg.......again. It seems like I write that a lot for Gettysburg is like a magnet to me. If I’m going to Ocean City, New Jersey or any points east the car seems to veer off to Gettysburg for a rest, but this time my wife and I actually had to go to there for reasons other than the battlefield and it also just happened to be our anniversary. There’s been a lot going on lately so we did things a little bit differently in celebration of it. We decided to pick out our own gift as we walked the town and shopped in the stores. My wife picked out a pair of pearl earrings inside a thin sterling loop. As for me, I came across something that signified man and sin, redemption, true glory and everlasting peace.  I’m not really into relics. Maybe this comes from my Protestant Christian faith that shuns relics like the plague for the whole concept of a piece of anything that may have belonged to anyone having any intrinsic value other than intellectual or personal interest is way too close to being an occult fetish. Do I compromise this in my great love of visiting historical sites? I don’t think so for I know that it does not make me anything special nor give me any added powers. Anyway, I found myself walking slowly past locked glass cases of various Civil War relics that were for sale, most of which had been found on the battlefields of Gettysburg and identified as such. I really wouldn't have even considered asking the price of anything but one of these relics stopped me in my tracks.  It was smaller than a quarter and I had to ask for the glass case to be opened to examine it closer. I typically spend about 15 minutes picking out black socks so I was there quite a while just looking at it when the salesperson offered to call the owner of that particular item so I could talk to him. We had a nice conversation and I told him that I wasn’t a collector but was just intrigued by this piece of the Civil War that he owned. He assured me that it was legitimate, as best as one can tell for items like this. So I bought it as my anniversary present.

It is most likely that on that hot July 3^rd, 1863 as Picket’s Division of the Army of Northern Virginia came out of the tree line of Seminary Ridge, steel bayonets shining so that even the Army of the Potomac troops were momentarily in awe, that one of those men wore this tiny cross around his neck, and then lost it on the uphill charge to the copse of trees and Union lines, and there it remained until locals scoured the fields years later for just such artifacts. Many times have I visited battlefields but I always tempered my admiration for the heroism with the reality that many of these men did not know Christ nor had any hope in eternity. For instance, as much as I admire General George S. Patton I can’t help but focus in on his mistaken belief in reincarnation and his ultimate standing in front of the judgment seat of the One who is no respecter of persons. On the other hand I know that all of the accomplishments of men such as Generals Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson and Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain , thankfully, in no way effected their ultimate salvation for it was in their faith in Jesus Christ...alone... that their redemption was secured. I have written blogs on George Washington and Thomas Jefferson, greatly admiring both but hoping in the salvation of only the former. Even today I'm conflicted while listening to Rush Limbaugh; I like him, I respect him and we need him but I can't ignore that there is no evidence that he is remotely  aware of the gospel other than the patently false and destructive facsimile accepted as the gospel in America today. So, if this small cross was indeed dropped or ripped off on that three-quarter mile stretch of land that bore the tread of Picket’s Division in that famous charge.... who might have worn it? The condition and the health of the Christian church in America was stronger in the South at the time of the Civil War although great revivals had broken out in the armies of both sides. Today, the wearing of a cross means little to nothing, even attendance at church on Sundays can be done by the most rebellious against God but that southern farmer or even landed gentry in the antebellum South would only have donned such a religious item to proclaim their faith in their Saviour! The bearer may have been clutching this small cross as he walked into the hail of bullets and canister fire, maybe even ripping it from its chain in the process. It’s certainly not the small piece of flat metal with no marking whatsoever on it that interests me but the location that it was found, that the wearer was most probably a brother in Christ now free of all conflict and praising his Saviour and also that America today is once again torn apart only much more so than in 1863. The soldier who dropped this cross was a soldier twice over, a pilgrim, doing his best to protect that which he loves but clinging to that which is infinitely more important, to a freedom immensely more valuable and to a King whose victory is already accomplished and eternal and who will someday have every knee bow before Him and separate those who He knows from those who will be surprised that He doesn’t know them!