For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to keep, and a time to throw away; a time for war, and a time for peace. (Ecclesiastes 3:1,6,8)

I write this month’s ramblings just a few days after US President Trump has declared the end of all hostilities in the Middle East, but it is a fragile peace. A few days after this article is read by some we will commemorate the end of World War I. It is sobering to think that those who fought and died in it did not call it that. To them it was the Great War or simply the World War (with no number). It became obvious very quickly that the so-called war to end all wars would be no such thing and World War II began only eleven years after the first ended. One hundred years later the horror of this war is fading from the consciousness of the nations involved as even the direct relatives of those who fought in it dwindle in number. It is a becoming no more than just another chapter in the history books. But for this reason, the Remembrance Day slogan “Lest we forget” becomes increasingly important. In one sense forgetting is exactly what we must do. The old rivalries and hatreds, the old propaganda, must be put aside, even if, as is the case in the Middle East these hatreds may go back thousands of years. But what we must never forget is the sacrifice and the suffering. 

Borrowing the words of Kohima epitaph, “it was for our tomorrow they gave their today”, and this we must never forget. But what tomorrow is it that they fought for? Most soldiers do not fight simply to ensure war continues, but to restore peace to land they are fighting over. Soldiers are given medals in honour of the service they have given, but the real honour will be given to them only when the peace they fought to bring about is made and kept. We must not forget their sacrifice because that is the only thing that will inspire us, not only to make sure such a war does not happen again, but also to inspire us to create the world of peace that they fought for, The poppy was the only thing that would grow in the mud of the French battlefield. in this respect it becomes not just a flower of remembrance but also a flower of hope, that out of the desolation new growth can come. I wear mine both as a sign of respect and honour to those whose blood was shed, and as a sign of hope that one day such bloodshed will finally cease. 

They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. (Isaiah 2:4)

                            Revd Eddie