Remembrance Sunday Thoughts 2014 - Poppies and more

Remembrance Sunday Thoughts 2014

I imagine most of you have read about and perhaps seen pictures of the amazing installation of poppies round the Tower of London. Artist Tom Piper has created over eight hundred thousand ceramic poppies, representing British and Colonial troops who lost their lives in World War One. If you haven’t seen it, these are planted so that they seem to flow from a window in the Tower and round the moat; a glorious red sea that can be seen from aeroplanes flying into Heathrow. It’s impressive and a wonderful spectacle.

 However, like all good art, it has also challenged us and produced controversy and discussion. Jonathan Jones in The Guardian and Simon Jenkins, I think of The Mail, have criticised the work and, I think, they have raised some really pertinent questions we, if we claim to be Christians, may need to ask ourselves. I’m not going to answer them, just reflect on some of them and invite you to reflect too.

The poppies form an installation undoubtedly of great beauty, but Jonathan Jones suggested that, as such, it sanitises war and maybe the moat should have better been filled with barbed wire, mud and skulls, symbols of the hardship and death of the trenches, along the lines of poems by the Great War poets, like Wilfred Owen in “Dulce et Decorum Est” – he didn’t pull any punches and destroyed the lie that it is “a sweet and honorable thing to die for one’s country” (Read it here). I don’t think people would have flocked to the Tower if that had been so.

Buying and wearing a pretty poppy is such a relatively easy token, but we must not shy from the horror it represents as poppies sprouted from the soil of the battlefields; poppy seeds that had remained dormant for decades in the soil, now stinking mud, churned up by bombs and shells and tanks and weary worn boots. It was only as a result of the awfulness that we have the symbol of the beautiful poppy.

 War is not beautiful or glorious and, as we wear a pretty poppy (or indeed use our hard-won freedom to choose not to wear a poppy or to wear a white poppy), we need to be honest and recall that mud and the smell and the blood. Mr Jones questions and so should we, is the artwork a sentimental piece that just makes us feel good? Each one of those eight hundred thousand poppies represents a life brutally ended. People around the artwork have been chattering, singing and shouting. It should make us weep.

But that then poses a further question. Whom do we remember?

This artwork has one poppy for each of the British and Colonial troops who died. What about the rest of the allies, many dying far from their homes and families?

And what about this? In Ablain-Saint-Nazaire, near Arras in France, there is a new war memorial, which commemorates all those who died in Northern France in WW1 – and I mean all those who died. (Click here) There are 42 John Robertsons, but also 72 Karl Schmidts. The Germans are listed alongside the Allies all in straight alphabetical order.

If you have been watching The Passing Bells on TV, you will have seen parallel stories of lads growing up from opposing sides – their families, their lives and their loves – growing up to fight and die for their respective countries, experiencing national pride and courage, mixed with absolute terror right down to their bowels. Every German soldier and of course German civilians too, had a mother and father, and brothers and sisters, maybe a fiancée just like “our lads”, and they died doing what they were trained to believe in, just like “our lads”.

So the critics of Tom Piper’s art also wonder whether narrow nationalism has any part to play in our quest for true peace and freedom as we look to the future.  The earth’s resources know no national boundaries – God's rain falls across man made borders – and yet we seem to put great store in them. We need, in my view, to avoid pandering to those who promote political nationalistic superiority, if we believe in the future of humanity – I think they, you know who I mean, are taking advantage of a centenary groundswell of nationalism. We are all equal children of God. Perhaps this French war memorial is more appropriate these days and perhaps we should think about being more generous than remembering only our own dead. What do you think?

I wrestle with all this. I wrestle with the rightness of war every year and sometimes I weep. I recognise that war is regarded sometimes as being the only remaining option in the face of evil, but it is surely never right. It is simply the least bad option. Even Winston Churchill is reputed to have said, “To jaw-jaw is always better than to war-war”.

Although Jesus got angry at times, he said to Peter to put down his sword in the garden of Gethsemane, when the heavily armed soldiers came to arrest him. Jesus then went on to win the greatest ever victory over the greatest ever evil. If we claim to be Christians, what does this teach us about the road we must take? It may be counter-cultural. It may lead us to question openly some of the behaviours expected of us around this time of year. We may have to be the ones bold enough to be the ones who go the extra mile to achieve tolerance and peace; tolerance that is not just putting up with others, but complete acceptance of them and their differences; non-judgmental generosity to their needs, whatever their culture and religion. And Christ's peace is a peace that is not only an absence of war, but absolute confidence and trust in others. As with so many things, it starts with a commitment to prayer for ourselves and above all prayer for our political leaders for right decisions, for that peace can only be achieved with God's help. It is said that charity starts at home, so too do tolerance and peace.

Until we find that true peace, then every life lost in war has been in vain and the artwork of poppies is a hollow gesture, because nothing has changed, and wearing a poppy is pointless. We have a responsibility to those who have died in war not to forget. If we have taken part in an Act of Remembrance it is incomplete without a genuine Act of Commitment for a better future. 

Silence - some thoughts

I’m blessed to live in a really quiet part of the country. At night, on a calm night, you can have the windows open and hear nothing except stillness. It’s something to be treasured.

There are examples in The Bible of people seeking solitude and silence. The prophet Elijah in Kings Chapter 19 was recovering from a period in his life where he had been dashing around making prophecies; some of which were less than popular. He had taken part in a terrifying dramatic incident where fire rained down from heaven to repudiate the gods of Baal. He had been threatened and fled for his life. He takes refuge in a cave and seeks solace from God. In his contemplation he realises that God is not in dramatic happenings like fire from heaven or winds or earthquakes, these are physical events, but God, he discovers, speaks in a “still small voice” – as we sing in the famous hymn, “the still, small voice of calm” – through the silence; a sound of “sheer silence” it says the NRSV translation.  Other versions say a “gentle whisper”. I've also heard “the sound of slender silence”, though I’m not sure who said this. It may have been me in a moment of inspiration.

In the Gospels Jesus seems to spend a good deal of time ministering to bustling crowds. Even when he tries to get away we read that crowds of 5000 plus follow him. He still ministers to them and feeds them. But at times even Jesus has had enough. He needs time out and sends away his disciples, packing them off in a boat in Matthew 14. He needs to recharge and meet with God alone. “He went up a mountain to pray” it tells us. Like Moses, like Elijah and others he finds a quiet place on his own to pray in solitude and silence. And of course we also recall he spent 40 days on his own in the wilderness before his ministry started.

 It’s said that we humans speak an average of 16 000 words per day, some of us more than others; I did say average! I am aware that church liturgy is filled with words and it has become commonplace for us to have music or hymns in all the traditionally silent parts of our services. I recently went to a service advertised as a contemporary service of praise and contemplation “with periods of silence”. In fact there was no silence; even the periods for silent prayer were all filled with music, someone praying aloud or someone telling me what to think and pray about. This is one reason that I make a pause every now and then in services that I am leading and leave a space to sit a dwell with God, to “be” with God and listen. Life is filled with noise. “Noise pollution” is an accepted phrase on the eco agenda – it’s sadly often true in our worship.

We all say we want some peace and quiet, but then do we actually seek it out as Elijah and Jesus did? I think we should.

But being silent is hard for many people. There is the challenge firstly of putting everything else aside, of clearing your mind, when there is no distraction of music or the radio or TV to supress your thoughts. You know the feeling when every time you try to stop and be still other things pour in – the shopping, the jobs that need doing, concerns or plan that you have. Even the sheer effort of trying to fight these thoughts off can disturb the stillness you’re trying to achieve. There are strategies for dealing with them. One is to acknowledge them and then consciously set them down one by one as you move into silence. Affirm to yourself that you can deal with this or that later.

Another issue with corporate silence is the fear that one’s own body may disturb it. I have had embarrassing moments in silent vigils which are best not talked about! Even one’s own heartbeat or breathing can be a source of distraction.  They can be turned however into a way into relaxation – listening to and using the gentle rhythm of your breathing, consciously slowing it down. It takes time to be still.

Of course silence also requires sound if you like. In order to appreciate silence one has to stop the sound. We talk about free speech and conversation, both being seen as good. Silence therefore requires oppression, I guess, as you have to reject others’ talking by going away, like Jesus, or asking for quiet, and this is an alien thought to some people, even seen as unsociable, rude and selfish. It’s perverse; like many things noise impinges on those who want silence, but you can’t impose silence on people who seek security in noise; noise dominates; it always wins. It’s hard to champion silence in a world where sound is the norm. 20% of people are sensitive, 20% highly sensitive and like quieter things, but 60% haven’t a clue what they’re concerned about. The noisy majority, those addicted to sound, don’t understand how they impact on the quieter ones; the sensitive ones, in our community. Many of these won’t come to church or find it very hard, because too much goes on in many services. The Quakers have something to offer here.

I know also for some silence equates to loneliness. I appreciate that many people live alone. Conversation is company and even the radio is better than hours of nothing. But in this context I’m thinking of a particular chosen silence, deliberate silence, making space for God.

Other people really seem to fear silence and avoid it; talking is a kind of defence mechanism. I suspect the reason is, they fear if they stop, they might have to listen and then they might just hear something they don’t want to hear, maybe it will be God, a still small voice, speaking in their heart. Only if we face our situation honestly, without hiding behind words, can God meet us where we are.

I really would commend finding time for deliberate silence in the presence of God, if you don’t already do so. For some it is easier than others. Incidentally, you don’t have to do nothing; an activity may help you to avoid those distracting thoughts. Anthony Bloom from the Russian Orthodox Church and Radio Four contributor, advises us to “take your knitting and for fifteen minutes knit before the face of God, but I forbid you to say one word of prayer”. Others may find lighting a candle helps.

A great book to read if you are worried that silence is just too challenging is by Sarah Maitland, simply called “A Book of Silence”. It describes her craving for silence and the difficulties she had in coping with it, even when she took a cottage on The Isle of Skye. It’s very honest.

The noisy storm outside in our world reflects the turbulence in our lives and in our world, like the storm on the lake in the reading. The busy-ness of life batters us; feelings of desperation overwhelm us and our faith is challenged or simply side-lined by doing too much; it’s like Peter trying to walk on the water, trying to stay on top; life is a moving active fluid. We try to do too much on our own.

The solution is to hold out our hands like Peter did and focus on the calmness and stillness that Jesus offers; tranquility Jesus attained and nurtured by spending time alone and in silence with his Father.

I’d like to offer you two things.

One is a short poem that I wrote.

Hush the noise, still your breath,

Calm the clamour of your lives.

Close your eyes; open your ears,

Hear the sound of slender silence speaking to your heart.

Amid the blasts of life’s fierce storms,

Free your mind of all care;

Quieten your thoughts, open your mind and

Hear the sound of slender silence speaking to your heart.

And secondly a prayer from ROOTS magazine:

Make this a personal prayer.

Jesus, my Saviour,

when I am sinking under the weight of perceived obligations,

save me from my busy-ness;

when I am sinking beneath the waves

of other people’s expectations,

save me from anger;

when I am going under with worry about the future,

save me from despair.

When my inner faith slips through my fingers,

save me from the storm of life and take my hand.

Amen.

The Big "C"

I’ve heard it said a remarkable number of times even in the last few days that you don’t have to go to church to be Christian; that to be “spiritual” is not to be “religious” or aligned with a religion. People tell me they believe in God and explain that they have some notion of a higher power, but they don’t feel the need to worship. I’m told by them that they pray, especially when times get tough and maybe sometimes to thank God, but not often. There is a general belief in an afterlife (I always ask this in funeral meetings to know where I stand), though the pressing materialism of this temporal world gets in the way of thinking too much about it. While I know what is being said in all these cases, I cannot agree with it anymore. Faith is personal, yes, but faith in a gracious, unconditionally loving God requires a big response, not a mediocre take-it-or-leave it attitude. It demands a commitment. Now I’ve said it, the big “C”, commitment, so lacking in the disposable, easy-come easy-go world today.

The question is what is that commitment? Initially coming to faith or growing further in faith is an individual choice, but it is not a path one can walk alone. Rarely do people realise their faith without the guidance of another person or other people empowered by the Holy Spirit. Nurturing and fostering the sparks of faith is much easier if one enjoys regular fellowship, prayer and Bible reading with other believers – not necessarily more mature Christians, as we all know “out of the mouths of babes…” Isolated the tiny embers can so easily grow cold, unless they are drawn together and fanned into life. This is the big “C”, commitment to each other, a promise to love and support each other in faith.

Moreover, we all have our God-given skills, gifts and talents, but none of us is really an expert of all, nor can we or should we do all. We need each other like a body has many parts, which work to make up the whole organism. Christians together form the complete Body of Christ here on earth now. We are his eyes, hands and his feet, every cell of his body. Of course, this image is not original. St Paul wrote eloquently in 1 Corinthians 12 about it. Being part of a body requires us all to pull our weight; we need each other and God needs all of us.

For us today I feel we need especially to share in the Body of Christ in Communion for two good reasons. Firstly, as a Eucharist or Thanksgiving in response to all he gives us, not the least his gracious love shown in Jesus’ sacrifice remembered in the service, but also in sheer awe at this wonderful creation (ah, yes, I crave silence in worship). Secondly, because by receiving the consecrated bread we sacramentally become the Body of Christ full of his Holy Spirit, empowered to live and work to his glory, genuinely inspired. All this requires the big “C”, commitment to worship – regular, weekly worship focussing on Holy Communion with other Christians as part of the church, the Body of Christ. Corporate religion is the only way by definition; it is Christ incarnate in the world.

Accepting that mainstream religious organisations have not always got it right (and for that we must repent), without them our spiritual platitudes about belief in God and saying our occasional prayers are hollow. You cannot be a Christian and not go to church as often as you can. 

Wellbeing

I preached this morning on the Israelites' need for physical water in the wilderness contrasted with their spiritual need to trust God, alongside the story of the Samaritan woman’s conversation with Jesus as she drew physical water at the well, during which she received what she really needed, the spiritual Water of Life.

Suddenly, as I spoke, I was struck by the wonderful double meaning of the word “wellbeing”. It may be obvious to some, but I had not seen it before, that “well-being” is “being by the well”, drawing the Water of Life from Jesus.

Many people feel that to have wellbeing all you need is a healthy diet and exercise regime; this is only part of the picture. We all have an innate, inner craving for nourishment for our souls. Yes, we need physical sustenance, food and water, daily, but humans also need spiritual sustenance daily. The only way to get the latter is by being constantly by the well, drawing that spiritual water through prayer and Bible reading.

In the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well, his beautiful, gentle evangelism was exemplary – not pushy, not preachy, not judgmental or critical of her life, taking time to get to know her, responding to her questions and addressing her deeper needs. We can learn from this.

It is a balance of both physical and spiritual that society needs. Holistic wellbeing requires food and water for body and soul; you cannot neglect either. Of course, if people do not have access to the former it is our duty as Christians to do our best to ensure they get their physical needs first and work towards a fairer British society and wider world. But being honest in the UK most people have access to the former and many disregard the latter. There is a great thirst in our communities which only Jesus can fill.

If we always camp by the well, we will be filled and refreshed with the Water of Life.

Wellbeing is being by the well.

Love is All You Need

I wrote this for our local Link magazine (Feb 2014)...I felt it was worth sharing:

“All you need is love” sang The Beatles all those years ago. “Love is all around” was another famous love song. There are many, many love songs in all genres and when February comes round each year the shops are full of expensive cards bearing slogans and poems of variable quality about undying love. So what is love? It is certainly big business.

I love fish and chips and I love my wife; I also love rock music and I love my family, my daughters and grandchildren; I love rugby and I love God (a requirement of the job); I love my cats, I love to swim in the sea and I can say to someone that I love their hairstyle. Confusing, isn’t it, when you think about it. We use the word “love” so widely and so loosely in English and sometimes very casually. The Greeks had at least four different words for which we use the single word love, but for details of those perhaps you’d better ask Mary Clements. It’s a good game to try to name as many synonyms for love as you can. Here’s a few to start you off: affection, strong attraction, affinity, fondness, devotion, yearning, taste for…see how many more words you can think of and then group them as appropriate for the phrases I used above.

Unfortunately, the casual use of the word has also reduced its meaning even in the context of physical relationships between couples. There is an increasing confusion between the use of the word “love” and the word “lust” and I believe this has contributed towards the more permissive attitudes to sex prevalent in society and the breakdown of family life. “Making love” is a commonly overused phrase and sexual union has become a simple token of a mere shallow attraction or passing affinity for someone, rather than the ultimate expression of a deeper spiritual love between lifelong soul-mates. How sad!

But conversely, at its best, love is something truly wonderful and other-worldly. The most commonly chosen Bible passage at weddings is the famous passage in chapter 13 of St Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians. This was actually not written about human physical love, but the definitive love of God. The Greek word used in this chapter is “agape”, which is a word that refers in a spiritual sense to a true unconditional love. It is wholly appropriate to read at church weddings, because it raises marriage in the sight of God above a human or merely legal partnership. In many places in the New Testament this same word is the one used to describe sacrificial and spiritual love, whether the love given is returned or not. Absolute love is rare is human terms; it requires pain and endurance and all the attributes named in St Paul’s letter. It is, however, the very love God has for each and every one of us – you and me – unreserved, unconditional, sacrificial love shown through Jesus. For that great gift surely we must praise and worship God each day of our lives.