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|Sound and Fury
|Thursday, September 14, 2017|
The impact rattled in my chest as much as it rumbled on the field. I’m speaking of the Cantigny Revolutionary War Reenactment we witnessed, courtesy of the North West Territory Alliance.
Envision more than 400 Revolutionary War actors in full costume. Mix in cannons, muskets and rifles blasting away and history definitely came alive. Period blacksmiths and shopkeepers offered wares of all kinds, including leather goods, wooden ladles, pewter mugs, knives and bonnets.
Of particular interest to me was a writing desk where you could scratch out letters with a period quill and ink. The guide even provided hot wax and a stamp to seal your letter.
But the biggest and loudest event, of course, was the mock battle staged in the open field. Redcoats and American patriots recreated war at the time of Washington as hundreds of spectators looked on.
One take-away for me: the gap between opposing forces was shockingly small—a colonial musket being accurate only up to 50 yards. To describe the sound as merely intense would not do justice to the afternoon.
Through the lens of my camera, I saw flashes of fire and smoke, the monstrosity of war spewing shock and awe over the entire field. And because this reenactment was about truly sensing the impact of combat, there were “casualties” in the form of simulated deaths. Before long, a number of “corpses” lie still on the green lawn. I was entranced.
And then it was over.
The smoke cleared. The conflict done, the crowd began to leave. Soldiers who appeared stone dead a moment previous stood up and began walking and talking and laughing. Honestly, it was a bit of a mind bender.
In the sound and fury, I think I may have encountered a portrayal of the end of days. When the last battle has finally been fought and the smoke clears, our God will raise His children back to life!
We shall see then that fatal accidents, cancers, heart attacks, old age and wars were only a pause. In the splendor of heaven, where war will never enter, we will pick up conversations and laugh with our believing brothers and sisters as if the death that separated us was nothing more than a short drama played out on a grassy field one Saturday afternoon.
Come, Lord Jesus!
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