[Congressional Record Volume 147, Number 93 (Friday, June 29, 2001)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E1253-E1254]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




            REVEREND VIRGINIA C. HOCH'S MEMORIAL DAY TRIBUTE

                                 ______
                                 

                        HON. BENJAMIN A. GILMAN

                              of new york

                    in the house of representatives

                        Thursday, June 28, 2001

  Mr. GILMAN. Mr. Speaker, I rise today to share the insights of a 
post-modern preacher and a veteran, Reverend Virginia C. Hoch, 
concerning Memorial Day patriotism. In order to share Rev. Hoch's 
thoughts with my colleagues, I request that her remarks be inserted and 
printed in the Record at the end of my statement.
  Reverend Hoch delivered this moving tribute for the Memorial Day 
Observance in the Goshen, NY, United Methodist Church, on May 28, 2001. 
She spoke eloquently of her thoughts of the proper way to commemorate 
Memorial Day. Rev. Hoch contrasted, what she termed, ``Pathetic 
Patriotism'' with ``Prophetic Patriotism.'' The former, she described 
as exhibiting only the pathos of war and elevating the gore of the 
battlefield to idolatrous levels. The latter, she explained as working 
for a vision of the nation which embraces the achievements, the 
potentials, and diversities of our inhabitants, and in which the 
fortunate share their blessings with those whose lives seem unblessed.
  Reverend Hoch, in her sermon, discussed her own personal, familial 
anecdotes. She spoke of her father's experiences as a B-17 pilot in the 
then U.S. Army Air Corps, and his numerous military honors, including 
the Air Medal, the Theatre Medal, and the Distinguished Flying Cross. 
However, she noted how he gave up his career in the Air Corps when he 
broke formation to save the lives of his crew due to the failure of his 
aircraft's oxygen system. Reverend Hoch brands this action as a form of 
``Prophetic Patriotism,'' not because he disobeyed an order, but 
because he put the lives of others over his own.
  Reverend Hoch also shared the lessons she gained as a flight nurse in 
the U.S. Air Force during the Vietnam Conflict. Having witnessed first-
hand the horrors of battle, she passionately deplored the glorification 
of war, and the tendency to desensitize ourselves to human casualty.
  Reverend Hoch's underlying message is an important one. She 
challenged her congregation to substitute wisdom for weapons, choose 
diplomacy over deployment, and to prefer peace over power. She did not 
advocate, by any means, forgetting the sacrifices of our countrymen, 
but rather, judging and questioning decisions to engage in war. Rev. 
Hoch

[[Page E1254]]

makes a crucial observation which often falls by the wayside in our 
Memorial Day commemorations. Accordingly I invite my colleagues to 
consider this powerful message in Memorial Days to come.

              Pathetic Patriotism or Prophetic Patriotism?

 (Memorial Day Observance, Goshen, May 28, 2001, Rev. Virginia C. Hoch)

       Today, we gather amid the pageantry, parades, and penants 
     of national pride to recognize and remember those persons who 
     have given their measures of devotion to protecting our 
     national interests, the greatest of which is the freedom to 
     be, as a people called American. Yet we do not honor them nor 
     commend ourselves if the sole patriotism we portray is 
     pathetic patriotism. We only bring their and our sacrifices 
     into full bloom when the proper patriotism we put forth is 
     prophetic patriotism.
       To be pathetic in our patriotism is to exhibit only the 
     pathos of war: those sentiments which long for the comradery 
     of wars of yesteryear, and which elevate the gore of the 
     battlefield to a level of misguided idolatry. While it may be 
     understandable that some may seek the regular companionship 
     and commemoration of only those of like mind and experience, 
     the pathos of living only in past glories is to deny the 
     truth of that for which even they once fought: for the people 
     of our country, and indeed for the people of all countries, 
     to live in a just society in the leisure of a lasting peace.
       Rather, we are to work, pray, and long for a prophetic 
     patriotism: a vision of our nation which accepts the 
     wonderful achievements, potentials, and diversities of the 
     peoples of America as a foundation for sharing our blessings 
     with those whose lives seem unblessed by any Divine Being, 
     and sharing our strengths with those whose weaknesses in 
     governmental structure and in personal living are so evident 
     that they live on the margins of existence. It is this kind 
     of patriotism to which all of our celebrations ought to 
     point.
       Two years ago, Mayor Matheus told of her uncle's struggles 
     and triumphs in a war once fought. Today, I'd like to tell 
     you about my first hero--my Dad.
       My father was a decorated B-17 pilot in the then US Army 
     Air Corps, receiving the Air Medal, the Theatre Medal, and 
     the Distinguished Flying Cross. He was a lieutenant, 
     stationed with the 306th Bombardier Group of the 8th Air 
     Force in Thurleigh, England. He flew 35 missions, returning 
     one time with 69 shrapnel holes in his craft. His flight log 
     is replete with the stuff that makes the hair stand on end: 
     fact and feeling, fear and humor. On one occasion, they 
     dropped unused payloads into the English Channel, straddling 
     the bombay and shoving bombs into the drink with their bare 
     hands. On another, Dad missed a mission due to a bad sinus 
     infection, and that day his crew was shot down, and the 
     person in his seat was killed. But one story stands out in my 
     mind as the man who my father is, and it is a prime example 
     of prophetic patriotism. On one of the missions, which 
     averaged eight hours in length, when his ``Flying Fortress'' 
     reached altitude, he realized that the oxygen was not working 
     in the belly of the airship, and thus half of his crew would 
     not survive the mission. Dad broke formation, returned to 
     base, and saved the lives of his crew. That disobedience cost 
     him his rank, his timely return to the states, and his career 
     in the Air Corps. But it saved the lives of nine American 
     military men. One of those men, the only one besides my 
     father who still survives, is Father Ken Ross, a former POW, 
     who is now a Catholic priest in East Chester, NY. My Dad 
     lived and lives to save lives, not to destroy them. That is a 
     brand of prophetic patriotism that I commend, not because he 
     disobeyed an order, but because he used his integrity to 
     weigh the costs, and found that he could only choose life for 
     his crew over his own ease and good fortune.
       What you may not know is that I am also a veteran. Prior to 
     entering the ministry, I served as a flight Nurse in the US 
     Air Force during the so-called Vietnam Conflict. And it is 
     from the perspective of the era that I speak. For Memorial 
     Day is about the sacrifices of men and women of all our 
     nation's wars, starting with the Revolution. But often, we 
     remember only those associated with wars that were popular 
     with our country. Despite the fact that it took Congress over 
     fifty years to establish a WW II monument, the two World Wars 
     were quite uncontested in America, as people felt the need to 
     protect our growing democracy. As the better parts of the 
     newly-released film ``Pearl Harbor'' call to mind, or system 
     of governance was under attack, and there was a sense of 
     urgency among all people in our country to protect and defend 
     our land. But then the picture got fuzzy. With Korea, we were 
     moving to a new concept: the defense of other lands against a 
     growing ideology with which we did not agree--a frightening 
     entity called communism. By the time we entered Viet Nam, our 
     country was divided in its self-image and its ideology. The 
     pathos of patriotism had faded, and the prophetic nature of 
     our national pride was still embryonic. Our women and men 
     went to fight an undeclared war for an undefined purpose. And 
     they returned, not to the hero's welcome which could have 
     helped to put their gory memories into some sort of higher 
     perspective, but to shame and hiding more met as renegade 
     felons than as revered fellows. And thousands of our 
     brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, and 
     friends remained as dead fodder for distant turf--so many 
     undisclosed that MIA became a cause and a banner for decades 
     to come. For countless thousands of our Vietnam vets, death 
     upon a foreign shore would have been preferable to the 
     reality of life in a hovel of memory and torment. The pathos 
     of patriotism had shown us its worst side, and we were not 
     enthused.
       Since Nam we have seen the ``sterile'' wars in Granada, the 
     Persian Gulf, and Bosnia. We have watched on TV as missiles 
     travelled as if they were blips on a video-game screen, and 
     we have not understood in our souls that the ``hits'' were 
     counted in human lives. We still harbor a patriotism of 
     pathos--that pathetic allegiance which believes that if we 
     are there, then we belong, and all losses are okay. ``War is 
     hell'' declared Churchill, but to many, war still has all the 
     allure of a video arcade to young boys on holiday.
       I would challenge us on this day of memorializing our war 
     dead, to turn instead to patriotism of prophetic witness. 
     That patriotism says not, ``My country right or wrong,'' but 
     ``my country--what can I do to make it right?'' It says not, 
     ``America's values above all else,'' but ``America's values 
     balanced by the needs of the peoples of the whole world.'' It 
     says not, ``Might makes right,'' but ``Might makes mercy a 
     mandate.'' To be prophetically patriotic means to cherish the 
     values of our country, while at the same time seeking to 
     learn from others how their values inform a free and life-
     giving society. It means substituting wisdom for weapons, 
     choosing diplomacy over deployment, preferring peace over 
     power.
       Today we can choose either pathetic patriotism or prophetic 
     patriotism. As for me and my house, we choose to honor our 
     heroes by living prophetically patriotic lives, loving 
     America and listening to her voice as one among many in the 
     harmonic choir of a world community. Do we therefore still 
     strive to learn about Bunker Hill, Gettysburg, Pearl Harbor, 
     Nagasaki & Hiroshima, Normandy, the 38th parallel, the Ho-
     Chi-Min Trail, Baghdad, Chechnia, and other names that live 
     in infamy? Of course we do, for to forget our history is to 
     render ourselves vulnerable to a repetition of errors in 
     judgment that is very costly to our democracy. To forget our 
     history is to relinquish our identity as a people who are 
     willing to sacrifice far more than the high price of a gallon 
     of gas to serve our nation. But do we learn these names to 
     revel in our self-perceived supremacy over other countries? I 
     think not. We learn, that we might be prophetic in our 
     patriotism, working through the obstacles which confront us, 
     while embracing the opportunities to be a people of vision 
     who see through eyes of red, white, and blue, a world 
     fulfilled in the memory of eternal peace.

     

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