Reflections on Remembrance Sunday

I was eight years old and hadn't long been in the Cub Scouts when we were told that we all had to turn up to church on Sunday because it was Remembrance Sunday and we would be marching from the Methodist Church to the local war memorial for the Act of Remembrance.  It was a bitterly cold day with a strong biting wind.  In those days grey short trousers were part of the Cub uniform.  As we marched to the war memorial I was shivering violently with the cold and I could feel the goose bumps peppering my legs.  We passed a little old lady who commented, "Isn't it nice to see little boys in short trousers!"  I'm a Christian Minister and so I can't repeat the murderous thoughts that went through my head!

Remembrance Sunday has always been a difficult day for me.  As a committed pacifist I was always uneasy with aspects of Remembrance Sunday and for many years did not wear a poppy, red or white.  As a Local Preacher I always blocked Remembrance Sunday on the Plan so that I wouldn't have to take a Remembrance Day service.  I did take one as a Local Preacher, when I forgot to block it, but as I was at a church that didn't go to the local war memorial until the afternoon I got away with a service that only briefly referred to Remembrance.

This year was different.  This year I am a Probationer Minister in The Methodist Church and I had no choice about taking a Remembrance Day service and, as it turned out, leading the Act of Remembrance at the war memorial.

As I thought about my love of peace my mind drifted back to a school trip I made to Belgium when I was fifteen.  We were visiting some of the museums and sites associated with World War 1.  I'll never forget standing in the remains of a trench and wondering what it would have been like to climb out of the trench, rifle in hand, and run towards the enemy trenches, knowing I faced an almost certain death before I'd advanced not more than a few feet.  I'll never forget standing in one of the war cemeteries surrounded by white stone crosses and headstones, each one of them representing the life of a man killed in that terrible war.  It was at that moment, as I thought about the terrible waste of human life that the First World War and, indeed, all wars represented that I became a confirmed pacifist.

"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God" said Jesus.  How could I square my pacifism with remembering those who gave their lives in war and celebrating their undoubted bravery?  The more I thought about it the more I realised that many of those who go to war do not do so because they love war, but because they love peace and believe that peace is worth fighting for.


I know that I could never take the life of another human being, that I could never go to war as a soldier and fire weapons at other human beings; but what I can do and tried to do on Sunday, is to honour the courage and bravery of those who did lay down their lives in the cause of freedom, security and peace. 

I even wore a red poppy this year in their honour!