Greater love has no-one than this
13th November 2005, Parish Communion, Remembrance Sunday
Micah 4: 1-5
James 3: 13-18
John 15: 9-17
“Greater love has no-one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends”. The words of St John that we heard this morning, so appropriate for our Remembrance Service and words which remind us of the sacrifice that, through the ages, humankind has made in defence of personal and national freedom and words reflected in the sacrificial love of God for his people, as Jesus died on the cross.
Today is a day when we come to reflect on the hundreds, thousands, millions of lives that have been sacrificed through war, in particular in two world wars, and to remember those which continue to be taken across the world today, as nation still turns on nation and religion on religion. Yes, in the main, we think of those who have died in the 20th and 21st centuries but, we know from Holy Scripture and historical records, that mass killing in war, in the presumed causes of justice and freedom has been around for, literally, thousands of years.
This year, of course, holds particular poignancy for this nation as we have witnessed the 60th anniversary of the ending of atrocities in World War II and our celebrations and thanksgiving services in the summer to mark this event. Yet, as is so often the case at this time in the year, the call has again been raised in the media that, maybe, we should stop all this remembering, flags, bugle calls, parades etc and allow the dead to rest in peace and be done with it all.
We have now in most families at least two, and in quite a few cases, three generations who have not known what it is to defend this country from an invader, unless you wish to count (as we probably should) the bombs of the IRA and, most recently, in London on 7 July - both of which stand as symbols of 21st century “warfare”. We live in an age where increasingly the world is policed in the quest of peace by the United Nations and its forces, and where precision bombing and high-tech equipment means the loss of life (civilian and military) in times of conflict is far lower than in any previous period of history.
I was reading only yesterday that we now have less than 10 survivors of our army from World War I still alive in this country and, given that all of them are well into their hundreds in age, it seems very likely by next year we may have none - so another chapter closes. Anyone witnessing the services and parades in the summer will have clearly seen ageing men and women, proudly defying the threat of terrorism once again, to hold fast to the memories of fallen comrades and the price of freedom and values by which they died so we live. A war-time generation grows older and now into their 80s - perhaps it is time to give up remembering.
But I think it is precisely because we have those images to sustain us, that we continue to remember and should continue to do so in the years ahead. We do not come this morning to glorify war, to wallow in nostalgia and partisan sentiments - rather we come to thank God for those we loved but see no more and to reflect on the lessons learnt and the personal stories behind the flags, banners and bands.
Take, for example the story of James - a spitfire pilot, an only son, so dearly loved by his parents. Undamaged by the Battle of Britain, how proud they were at his heroism and his seeming invincibility. How totally distraught when damage to his landing gear made it impossible for him to put down safely and he was killed in a devastating fire. Or the story of Tony, a paratrooper, who successfully landed on D-Day only to be shot down one month before the end of the war, jumping into enemy lines one last time. He only saw his baby daughter, (born as he fought in France), once and she, like so many children of her generation, grew up fatherless.
Then, there are those who escaped death but continued to carry burdens of guilt that they did survive. Take Charles, who served in the Army and got posted out of Singapore just a few days before it was taken by the Japanese. He never overcame his guilt that he survived whilst his dearest friends either perished there or came home so destroyed as people, that they never functioned properly again.
And, of course, we must not forget the civilians who suffered: those whose homes were bombed, those who lost husbands, sons, daughters, parents and never quite got over it. And, since 1945, there have been those who never came home from Korea, Suez, Afghanistan, the Falklands, the Balkans and more recently Ireland and Iraq - in fact all the places where the men and women of Her Majesties forces continue to serve and, amongst civilians we remember those killed in the World Trade Centre, those killed in London tube trains.
Names may be changed in these stories I have told but the reality of each is true and the reality of such human sacrifice will be reflected in the names on our war memorial that we shall stand and face in about half-an-hour’s time - and reality is also reflected in each of us here today. For some, the World War II will be perhaps as vivid today as 60 years ago but for many of us (myself included) we can only know the impact it had upon the history of our family. In some way, each of our lives has been touched by conflict of nation against nation for, in every war, the price of victory is hard-won, the cost of loss is equally devastating. You cannot have conflict without cost, suffering without loss, sacrifice without pain - and that is why we remember.
So, as we look back down the road we have travelled have we learnt anything? Well, I think is often in what happens after war that we see the light of Christ shining through and we see ourselves able to carry on just that bit longer because of it. It has been truly delightful in recent years to welcome Japanese Christians into our church family, we have recently established a link with the Italian people of Vercelli and now we welcome Antje Schwartau to our parish this week to begin her ministry amongst us, and we pray for her ordination in Germany later in the month. Yet I doubt, in all honesty, whether the parishioners of St Andrew’s in 1945 could have envisaged a German curate being based here to minister to us - what a powerful message this is of the way that forgiveness and healing can take place through God’s grace.
Our Epistle this morning reminded us of the need to have wisdom and understanding but wisdom that doesn’t come from envy and bitterness which can only cause disorder but, instead, the wisdom that comes from heaven, peace-loving, considerate, full of mercy and sincere. “Peacemakers” says James, “sow in peace and thereby raise a harvest of righteousness”. Yet, if that peace is to be achieved on a global scale, then we must begin it in a small way amongst ourselves, in our families, in our work, in our church and so on.
I was struck by a letter I read this week in the press from a mother saying that she believed that the world would continue to be a killing field until children were raised by their parents to respect other children and to learn to control their childish disputes, bullying tactics and violence to each other. Simplistic views maybe but with an element of deep truth. How can we ever hope for global peace if we cannot make peace with those around us. It is from small and seemingly trivial disputes that great conflicts can arise.
Micah reminds us that our truth in life, our “wisdom” if you like, comes from our faithfulness and witness in walking with the Lord our God for ever and ever. Nations may learn from the law of God, not the law of man - for God will be our judge and settle the disputes for nations and, in him, through our knowledge of Christ, will we find our peace. Jesus was, of course, the complete ambassador of the message of peace and the bringer of meaning to the teaching of God’s love for us. As Christ gave up his life for us, so we may, in turn, give our life for others. However, this is a not a message of sadness and despair but of joy and hope- the giving of love and the hope of life eternal. We are commanded to love one another - it’s not an option - it is the will of God.
Today is not a day to argue the pros and cons of the justification for war but I do believe today is a day when we may examine ourselves to consider honestly whether we live our lives in peace and according to God’s will. Today is also a day to reflect on our history (personal and national) and remember with thanksgiving those who believed in freedom, who believed in truth and who, in love gave the only thing they could to us for our future, the gift of their life.
Interviewing a young woman on the streets of Peterborough at the start of the most recent Gulf Conflict, the young reporter asked her if she had been shocked by the images on her TV screen. I was struck by her response. “Oh”, she said, “it’s quite awful - I mean you don’t expect soldiers to die do you? I mean you really don’t think it will happen to them - nasty business this war, quite awful really - they shouldn’t die should they, I mean they really shouldn’t.”
No, they really shouldn’t - but they did (in their millions) and, sadly, they will probably continue to do so. Greater love has no-one than this that he lay down his life for his friends. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them, by truth, with thanksgiving and in love. Amen.