Tillman himself was extraordinarily private about his reasons for this decision and refused all requests for media interviews. His family is continuing that tradition. Some of his friends who have commented suggested that Tillman was not known among his peers as particularly patriotic. “He just seemed to think that something had to be done,” said his college football coach, who talked to Tillman about his decision.
Pat Tillman’s life stands in judgment of our own. Not because that was the way he wanted it, but because looking at Tillman’s choices forces us to examine the ones that we’ve made. We wonder if we would have been willing to walk away from $3.6 million to put ourselves at risk of death on behalf of others. Even if the money wasn’t involved, we wonder if we would have had the courage to do the “something” that Tillman thought had to be done. Tillman had what our culture prizes above all—fame and fortune—and he walked away from all of it.
It may seem odd to compare a warrior like Tillman to a 13th century pacifist like Saint Francis of Assisi, but there are a few striking similarities. Both were men who gave up careers that would have assured them wealth and comfort to pursue a path that required arduous labor and even danger. Both men seemed to sense that life had a deeper purpose than the pursuit of comfort and security. And because they chose to pursue that deeper purpose, the lives of both men posed a challenge to the times in which they lived.
There have been times throughout its history when Christianity has been a movement that challenged people in the way that Pat Tillman’s life and death challenge us now. But are we still? Have we become so suburbanized that our lives have become indistinguishable from those who do not follow the Crucified One? What are we willing to walk away from? How much are we willing to risk?
