Call of Duty

 

 

My generation lost an icon last month. His name was Neil Armstrong and he was the first man to step foot on the moon. I vividly recall that warm day in July of 1969 when the radio reported that Mr. Armstrong had indeed reached that beautiful orb in the sky. I remember looking up at the moon that evening and trying to picture men walking about on something that seemed so far away and out of reach for mere earthlings. It was a moment I will never forget.

I am also impressed by the character of Mr. Armstrong. Despite his star-studded accomplishments, he seemed to prefer to stay under the radar if possible. He graciously interacted with his curious and adoring fans but maintained a humble demeanor. During one of his television interviews he stated, “Our lives should not be about one moment of fireworks. Rather, our lives should be based on the on-going ledger of daily living.” Another reporter wrote that despite Neil’s somewhat shy nature, he always “did his duty.”

Over the years I have been blessed to cross paths with folks who have answered the call of duty. Not the kind of duty filled with fanfare and marching off to regions unknown. Rather, the quiet, under the radar, I’m-here-to-serve kind of duty.

The council members of my childhood church come to mind.  Many of these men spent warm, sultry afternoons in classrooms, trying to teach lessons of faith and catechism to a rather tepid audience. The council members had day (and into the night) jobs. Yet, they took the time to stop what they were doing so they could honor their commitment to the youth of the church. Most of the elders had no background in teaching or pedagogical techniques. They answered the call of duty and did their best for us. I wish I had been more appreciative at the time. I am now filled with gratitude for their service.

I am also grateful for the men who stood at my uncle’s graveside this past summer. Despite it being a desperately hot and steamy day, a group of elderly veterans helped my family bury my uncle with a sense of military pride. My guess is that many of the men were suffering from aches and pains of their own. And yet, they answered the call to honor a fellow serviceman. My heart was thankful that morning for their humble commitment.

The moms and dads of the students at the school I attended as a youngster also come to mind. Our school was privately supported, which translated into countless hours of planning and working fundraisers, completing building projects, mowing lawns and on top of it all, writing out  tuition checks. Most of us didn’t have lake homes to help us create memories. What we did have were role models of folks who believed in faith based education and were willing to do whatever it took to make it happen.  

It is quite unlikely that any of us will accomplish something as great as stepping on the moon. It is very likely, however, that we will be given opportunities to serve others. May we all graciously answer our call to duty.

Houston, the Eagle has landed.