Jackson, Wi – A Veterans Day Observance like no other at Kettle Moraine Lutheran High School in Jackson, WI. Hundreds attended and were wowed by the KML band, choir, and a message from Pastor James Douglas whose sermon focused on Matthew 11:28-30.
Matthew 11:28-30: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

The speech by Pastor Douglas is below, however it is worth noting that when the segment of the program focuses on honoring the veterans in attendance it happened. For the first time in more than 20 years, no veteran from WWII was present.
Dear veterans, families, fellow Chargers and welcome guests,
The Word of God that is going to captivate our hearts and our minds this morning is taken from Jesus’ words in the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 11.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

On behalf of the grateful family of believers here at Kettle Moraine Lutheran High School, thank you. Thank you for your faithful service, and thank you for the continued support that you show not only to our nation but to those who are continuing in their service at this very moment.
I’ve had the privilege of serving as pastor to a number of men and women who have served in our armed forces, and it always surprises me just how little we, myself included, who did not serve in the armed forces, know about the world and life of people in the military.

You know, we have movies, and we have the news, and we have videos, but I don’t think any of that really captures the gentle encouragements you receive in boot camp from a drill instructor to get your heart and mind and body ready for service.
To know is to live it.
It made me think about one of the more well-known military commands that we hear quite often in movies: “At ease.”
I think to the average civilian listener, that command brings an image of relaxation, lounging, kind of what we do after a day of hard work.

But you, my veteran friends, would assure us that that is not what that command means. When you hear the command “At ease,” you’re not being told to look for the closest recliner.
No, you go at ease from attention, a very stiff and rigid posture. And you’re allowed to bend your knees a little bit, clasp your hands behind your back. But that right foot stays tight. And your ears, your ears are ready to hear the one who speaks.
When a sailor, a soldier, a Marine, an airman, a Coast Guardsman or a guardian hears that order, “At ease,” they know they’re not being told that they can do as they please.

It made me think that whether you’re currently serving in the military or whether you have served and moved into civilian life, it’s very hard to make that transition from attention to being at ease.
The world all around us continues to bark commands at us: produce, keep up, stay strong, perform.
It’s no different for you young people. As you started your high school careers, you were probably thinking, “I’ve got about four years to figure out what I’m going to do with my life, and after that, I’m going to shoot off into college or the workforce.”
The pressure of the world has its own form of calling us to stand at attention.
And the expectations that many veterans come out of the military with when they enter the workforce are not met because they think about the teamwork, the loyalty, the duty they have to the job that is seen in our armed forces. In the civilian workforce, so often that is absent.
You know, it reminded me of a story I once heard about a teacher who was talking to her students about dealing with a lot of the pressures that the world throws at them.
She held a glass before her class and asked them, “How heavy is this glass?”

Well, of course, they wanted to know if there was anything in it. They wanted to know what it was made of.
The answers came and went, from 8 ounces up to 20 ounces.
She said to them, “The absolute weight of this cup doesn’t matter. What matters is whether I’m asking you to hold this cup for one minute, which would probably be no problem, or one hour, when your arms are tight, or for a full day, when your arms would feel terrible.”
Now, most of us here aren’t collapsing under the waves of brand-new emergencies today.
We’re exhausted because we’ve been holding on to the exact same worries, expectations, demands for attention and grief for months or longer without putting them down.
But today, Jesus steps in the midst of us, before you and I, and says, “At ease.”

It isn’t just an invitation to drop your glass. It’s an invitation to hand it to the One who never grows tired.
There’s a beautiful call from our Savior in these words: “Come to me, Lord.” It’s much more than a command. It’s a gracious invitation, and it puts on display the loving heart of a Father who walked into a garden and called to the scared, afraid sinners, “Where are you?”
It’s the loving, beating heart of that Father who scans the horizon every evening looking for that son to return and thinking, “Today?”
It’s that loving mission of a Master who sends his servants out to every corner of town, to every street and alleyway, to every byway and highway, because he wants his mansion packed with as many weary and burdened souls as he can find.
You may be asking, “How do people find such ease in this way?”
It’s a fair question to ask.
God himself accomplished it by sending his Son.
If you thought your drill instructor in basic was difficult, imagine living under a perfect Father who demanded complete perfection all the time. And that’s exactly what Jesus did.
He stood at attention in every way in our place. He met every detail of the Father’s perfect will.
Not a single movement was out of place.

Not a single thought was out of line with the Father’s command and will.
And with the world’s eyes upon him, he stood strong and didn’t tire of carrying the weight of the world’s sins completely to the cross.
In our place, displaying the Father’s love to our world.
For our Savior, Jesus.
You wouldn’t think of it. Not if you and I couldn’t know ease and rest in this life and in eternity.

Jesus can absolutely offer you a yoke that is easy and a burden that is light because he’s carried every bit of the crushing weight.
He carried away what we were and made us what we are.
So when those anxious thoughts of what’s to come in the future grip you, when guilt accuses you, when memories return and lay heavy upon you, you don’t have to stand rigid at attention before the world’s demands and fear what God will do.
Come to your Savior Jesus, who replaces exhaustion with righteousness and anxiousness with his everlasting peace.
And sadly, my veteran friends, the thank-yous of November will probably give way to the quietest of December.
And then again, those calls to attention will come from our world all around us.
And an unforgiving world will make demands that we can never meet.
Hear the invitation, the call of the One who stands for you. Hear the One who speaks to weary and burdened souls.
“At ease.”
Amen.
On a side note:
Another first – this was the first observance without its founder. For more than two decades, the ceremony has been a heartfelt tribute to those who have served and it all began with a simple idea shared between two members of the community. Mike Riebe, 82, an Air Force veteran and longtime member of the Henry F. Gumm American Legion Post 486 in Jackson and community member Betty Gumm came up with the idea more than 20 years ago. Mike Riebe passed January 28, 2026. A special mention was made at the ceremony along with a moment of silence as a tribute to Riebe.








