Remembrance Sunday – morning
Sunday 10th November 2019
Remembrance Sunday – morning
2 Thessalonians 2.1-5,13-17
Luke 1. 68 – 79
Revd Preb Maureen Hobbs
In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
That poem has come to symbolise this day and the reason why we nearly all wear the poppy. And these days there are poppies in a multitude of colours – red of course for sacrifice and respect; purple for the many animals who also perished as a result of war; white for peace – and it first appeared in the 1930s!; black poppies to remember the many service personnel of colour who gave their lives; the Khadi poppy – red but made of hand woven Indian material (khadi) to remember those people from South Asia who fought and died in World War I; I am sure there are probably others…
Poppies are among a host of common agricultural weeds that once were very common in our meadows and wheatfields. Today, modern farming methods have all but eradicated them from fields of crops, although some cling on in the verges – and I am pleased that there has even been a bit of a resurgence on some farms as people are moving away from the monoculture approach and back to something more organic, more natural.
The poppy became associated with warfare particularly after WWI – although I heard the other day that they were also noted to appear after the battle of Waterloo in the 19th century. The seeds of the poppy are tiny – not much more than black dust which falls deep into the earth from the seed heads in late summer. But the seeds require exposure to light in order to germinate. So it is only when the farmer ploughs his or her fields – or when artillery shells churn up land that had previously been rich agricultural property, that the poppies get the chance to bloom in profusion. And they help us to remember.
We live in an age when so much gets forgotten so quickly. We are bombarded by information from all sides and in all forms. No wonder our minds cannot hold it all! But in an age of rapid consumerism and short-term solutions, we do well to dwell on what it means to remember, and why this might be important not so much for our past, but for our present and future.
Of course, remembering is at the heart of the gospel: “Do this in remembrance of me” are among the last words that Jesus utters to his disciples. And “Lord, remember me, when you come into your kingdom,” are among the last words ever said to Jesus on the cross.
But remembrance is not merely fond or regretful recollection. It is rather, a deep mystery which connects and unites Past, Present and Future. When we remember, we bring out of the past and into the present those people whom we have loved and lost; those whom we still love, yet see no longer; those to whom we owe a debt, yet cannot pay – or thank – enough. Remembering, then, is not merely making sure we don’t forget. It is, rather, the opposite of dismembering – pulling apart something that should be held together.
In contrast, remembering is putting something together that was already whole, but had come apart.
Remembrance, then is not only an act that brings out memories of the past into the present – memories that increasingly are not our own, but those told to us by others.
It is also an invitation every year to re-make and re-new the world. By recalling, we are asking God to re-shape our lives; to be re-fashioned, re-made and re-deemed. To be remembered as individuals, as a country, and as nations.
To come together in a simple act of worship, and to pray, be silent and recall, is in a real sense to build on the dedication and self-sacrifice of the past – for the present and for the shaping of our future together, and apart.
And so today – and on the 11th day of the 11th month – we stop. We remember and give thanks in our turn. For all those who have gone before us. For those who gave – and continue to give their lives, so we might live.
We remember those who have kept and held us together when we felt we might fall apart. And in dwelling too on the generosity and goodness of God, we remember that we are all loved by the God who remembers each and every one of us – (whether or not we acknowledge him). And he looks upon us with gratitude for the love and service we render to one another.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Amen.