|
"Stones" - Reflections on a School Trip to French and Belgian Battlefields by Rosie Barr
Stones: that's all they were to me. Bright white, and gleaming proudly in the sweltering heat of summer. Hundreds, no, thousands of little monuments, each with a meaningless name engraved uniformly on the front. Every one was identical in my eyes; regiments and crests were foreign, service numbers meant nothing. I did not know these men: I did not know how they lived, and died.
I drifted between the graves of many - some died older, some young, most Christian; but all just soldiers who fought bravely in a war too long ago to affect me. At one headstone there was an elderly woman placing flowers; she could have been crying, though I wasn't sure. Was it a father she mourned for? An uncle? A brother? They were lost almost a century ago, yet now, under the cooling shade of trees and the azure-blue sky, a stooped old lady stood in a solitary vigil for a man she could hardly have known. Why?
Essex Farm cemetery was the same as the others - row upon row of graves, and a single, towering cross summarising the patriotic spirit residing amongst the pillars. It became a game to find headstones with certain details: a game that shattered uncomfortably when we found the final resting place of Valentine 'Joe' Strudwick. "The Rifle Brigade, 14th January 1916. Age 15." I recall looking around, horrified, at the boys who had come on this trip - all smiling, all busy being average 21st century fifteen-year-olds. Before then I would have found the idea of any of them using a gun positively laughable, but as we gazed on the tomb in front of us there couldn't have been anything less amusing. A surge of unfamiliar emotion swept through me, sending shivers down my spine. I had never considered people I know, my age, fighting and dying for their country.
Neither had I considered those who were never even found to have a gravestone erected with their name on it. The Menin Gate drove the blade home, looming impressively on the horizon as we approached. From a distance, it looks to be an immensely grand, white marble monument, beautiful and yet sinister on the edge of Ypres. I was not prepared for the names. I don't believe anyone with a soul could ever be- every panel of white stone was etched with columns and columns of tiny names, all of soldiers whose bodies were never found. Almost 60,000 men, trampled beyond memory into the mud of France or blown to oblivion and out of existence. I felt as though something would burst from me when, nestled between 'Barclay.L' and 'Barton.G', I found Private 'Barr.G'. That man died before my grandparents were born, but I experienced a rush of grief as if he were in my own family.
My former comprehension of war had already been irrevocably altered, however I was left with nothing after seeing Notre Dame de Lorette. It was like being in a vast orchard, except with crosses where the trees should have been. 19,000 individual graves all had roses and poppies growing between them; I can almost see the petals blossom into pools of crimson blood, blooming quietly under a neatly punctured uniform. Harrowing though it was to be engulfed by the ocean of headstones, the most moving experience on this emotional rollercoaster was in the huge memorial at the centre of the cemetery. World War Two veterans stood as sentinels by the doors, in full military regalia despite the unbearable, desert-like heat. The silence inside was quite different to the deathly stillness of amongst the tombs; it was peaceful, full of pride and respect. Remains of unknown soldiers were visible in a crypt, as were the ashes of Holocaust victims.
At that moment it became clear to me that the graves weren't just stones at all. They were, and are, reminders to the whole world of what war does to everyone - lives are snuffed out like candles; men, unique and special, become disposable bodies. These immaculate cemeteries and memorials aren't just graveyards; they are living tributes to the loyalty and bravery of so many men:
"Age shall not weary them
Nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them."
Rosie Barr
BIBLE READING 2 Thessalonians 2: 13-17
"May our Lord Jesus Christ Himself and God our Father, who loved us and by His grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope, encourage Your hearts and strengthen you in every good deed and word." (2 Thessalonians 2:16-17)
A reflection by Mary Barr
I'm sure many of you watched the BBC News last week, and saw some very moving interviews with the Final Few surviving veterans of the 1st World War.
One gentleman fought in the great naval Battle of Jutland in 1916,
in which one of my grandfathers also took part, though he's no longer alive to tell the tale.
It's so important that we do listen to those who have had such experiences - not least so that we can learn the lessons of history, in order to avoid, if at all possible, repeating the things that lead to war.
This morning, let's go a bit further back in time, even further than the 1914-18 war; back more than 200 years to the Napoleonic Wars and to one of Britain's most famous Admirals.
Horatio Nelson.
He was noted for his ability to inspire and bring out the best in his men. His actions during the Napoleonic Wars meant that he was revered like few military figures have been throughout British history.
For example, while Napoleon was gathering forces to invade the British Isles, Nelson took part in the Battle of Copenhagen in 1801.
Things were going badly and the signal came to Nelson from his commander to break off the action and to retreat. But Nelson was determined to continue, even if that meant death for himself and his men. Legend has it that he held his telescope up to his right eye and declared that he did not see the signal.
What do we know about Nelson's right eye?
He'd already lost it in an earlier battle!
So he turned a blind eye to what he didn't want to see!
Well, in that instance, Nelson was proved right - because that battle had a successful outcome, and Nelson was rewarded for his persistence.
Now when St Paul wrote to Christians facing difficult circumstances, telling them to "Stand firm" - some people think that he was advising us to do what Nelson did.
Some people think that standing firm and holding fast to Christian faith in this day and age, with the struggles that involves, means turning a blind eye to the world as it really is, to the awful suffering around us, pretending that we don't see the signal to retreat.
But it's not like that.
Jesus said that He is the Way, the Truth and the Life (John 14:6) and that His Spirit leads His followers into all truth (John 16:13).
So following Jesus is about looking at the truth, not turning a blind eye to it.
Being a Christian is not about pretending that we don't have doubts and difficulties in this life.
Terrible things like war and suffering, such as Rosie described in her battle-fields experience, do sometimes make us question our faith in a good and loving God. If God is love, how can He let such bad things happen? These are huge questions to which there are no quick and easy answers.
But what God does is to invite us to come to the Cross - to bring our burdens and struggles to the Cross. To come just as we are, with all our doubts and uncertainties, but also with the little grain of faith that we do have inside us. Then we can find our burden lifted, the weight eased from our shoulders as Jesus shares it with us.
Countless men and women will testify to the truth that when we come to the Cross, there, somehow, we find comfort and peace, good hope, fresh energy, eternal encouragement.
What St Paul wrote to the Thessalonians applies to Christians always, everywhere:
We are saved through the sanctifying work of God's Holy Spirit and through belief in the truth of the Christian message.
So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm!
Keep both eyes open to the reality of the struggle of life on this earth. And at the same time hold fast to the teachings of the Gospel.
For "Christ is the world's true light, its captain of salvation".
(Hymns Old and New, 78)
Mary Barr
Click to return to the list of further sermons.
Go to top
|
