Each time I’ve come to the monthly Veterans Lunch at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Athol, I’ve been struck by how faithful the vets are in showing up. At a time when flaking is the norm and RSVPs aren’t even a thing anymore, this group shows up every fourth Tuesday, ready to greet each other with humor, understanding and good appetites. As we’ve just marked Veterans Day, I think we have a lot to learn from them.
We’ve got Vietnam vets to Afghanistan vets, old guys, young guys. I know there’s a whole political spectrum of beliefs around those tables. That’s not the point of showing up. From what I’ve heard over lunch, they come because it’s one place where people understand what it means to serve, and they know the ways that good intentions go sideways.
Some have been vilified for their service because people didn’t agree with the war they were sent to. Some have lived through the shocking sense of betrayal when the ideals they signed up for weren’t reflected in the actions of the government that declared the war. But they continue to trust each other in a special way. Veterans understand the difference between faith and belief.
I often say, “Belief is a poor substitute for faith.” Most people seem to think religion is primarily a function of belief: if you believe a story about gods and miracles, then you’re religious. But that kind of belief is a tiny, anxious little fidget object in the context of a fully inhabited life of faith.
It wasn’t always so. The English word “believe” comes from a Germanic root that originally meant something like “to hold dear.” “Beloved” shares the same root. Faith is a matter of where you put your body, your attention and your energy in this life: acting in the world, with real people, with confidence and love toward those you hold dear.
Regardless of opinions, regardless of the rightness or wrongness of a war, veterans hold each other dear in a way the rest of us could learn from.
We’ve all seen plenty of belief without faith, without that holding dear. That is where much of the harm done in the name of religion comes from. As “belief” shrank into militant opinion-having, we lost the corrective, beloved heart of faith. Faith is what you do. Faith is consistency. Faith is behaving in ways that make people believe you, and believe in you.
I have seen and heard the exhaustion of so many in our community, and the anxiety that comes with high prices and the approaching winter. I know many of us are just glad the election is over. But however you feel about local and national results, I hope the example of veterans spurs us to a deeper reflection on what this moment asks of us.
Having correct beliefs doesn’t keep anyone’s home warm or anyone’s family fed. The vets don’t interrogate each other to make sure their beliefs line up. Instead, they bring each other socks, hats and stories, and they cut each other some slack.
Our volunteers turn their energy to the holidays in November and December, but we hope to resume our Veterans Lunches in January. If you’re looking for a way to serve your community, or another way to relate to your neighbors that isn’t all about belief, we could use a few more people who show up. The details are below.
Maybe we can find ways to help each other through the winter ahead. Maybe we can recover that old sense of belief: seeing each other as beloved, as people worth showing up for, and acting in faith that honors each other with trust and respect.
St. John’s Episcopal Church at 15 Park Ave. in Athol gathers for worship on Sundays at 9:30 a.m. The St. John’s Thrift Shop is open on Wednesdays from 3 to 6 p.m., and Thursdays and Saturdays from 9 a.m. to noon. The church’s monthly Veterans Lunch, open to all veterans and their guests, takes a holiday break and hopes to return in January on the fourth Tuesday of the month. The church is looking for a few reliable volunteers to help it continue. To learn more, contact The Rev. Marisa Egerstrom at fathamarisa@gmail.com.