Sunday, November 11, 2007
Remembrance Day
Texts from Benjamin Brittens War Requiem
Out there, we've walked quite friendly up to Death:
Sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland,-
Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand.
We've sniffed the green thick odour of his breath,-
Our eyes wept, but our courage didn't writhe.
He's spat at us with bullets and he's coughed
Shrapnel. We chorused when he sang aloft;
We whistled while he shaved us with his scythe.
Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!
We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum.
No soldier's paid to kick against his powers.
We laughed, knowing that better men would come,
And greater wars; when each proud fighter brags
He wars on Death - for Life; not men - for flags.
Remember, gentle Jesus,
That I am the reason for Thy time on earth,
Do not cast me out on that day.
Seeking me, Thou didst sink down wearily,
Thou hast saved me by enduring the cross,
Such travail must not be in vain.
I groan, like the sinner that I am,
Guilt reddens my face,
Oh God spare the supplicant.
Thou, who pardoned Mary
And heeded the thief,
Hast given me hope as well.
Give me a place among the sheep
And separate me from the goats,
Let me stand at Thy right hand.
When the damned are cast away
And consigned to the searing flames,
Call me to be with the blessed.
Bowed down in supplication I beg Thee,
My heart as though ground to ashes:
Help me in my last hour.
After the blast of lighning from the East,
The flourish of loud clouds, the Chariot Throne;
After the drums of time have rolled and ceased,
And by the bronze west long retreat is blown,
Shall life renew these bodies? Of a truth
All death will He annul, all tears assuage? -
Fill the void veins of Life again with youth,
And wash, with an immortal water, Age?
When I do ask white Age he saith not so:
"My head hangs weighed with snow."
And when I hearken to the Earth, she saith:
"My fiery heart shrinks, aching. It is death.
Mine ancient scars shalls not be glorified,
Nor my titanic tears, the sea, be dried."
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I attended mass on this day. The priest gave a rather startling sermon that shook us quite a bit. He listed all the people who would be attending the service at the cenotaph, Royalty, politicians, religious leaders, business leaders, families friends and the general public. Then he pointed out that these men gave the ultimate sacrifice, their own lives to protect our freedom. A very meaningful and heroic act. He then asked us to remember what we sought to protect our freedom from and helped us by giving us a list: Something along the lines of:
Euthanasia,
Human experimentation
Freedom from the slaughter of innocence
Freedom of speech
Freedom from Internment without trial
Freedom of Religion
Freedom to educate our children
Freedom from interference in family life
Freedom to enact and enforce our own laws
.....
He then pointed out how we have used the freedom that these men had given us with their own blood. He did this by ticking off all those areas in which we now follow (or are at risk of following) Hitler's policy. It was very chilling. The central point he was making was that we show these brave men the deepest disrespect by not safeguarding the gift that their blood won for us. It was very humbling and quite shocking.
Thank you for showing us this moving film. This afternoon I came through the battlefields of the Somme in the Eurostar and seeing the area from the train never fails to move me.
Here and there can be seen small British cemeteries (the larger ones are not on the route) in the middle of the fields all beautifully maintained.
I find it sad that so few people even bother to look out of the window of a train these days. On the Eurostar the passengers prefer to read, play cards, use their laptops etc while travelling through this area so steeped in blood. I do think it is a pity that the train 'managers' do not make some comment about the area of the Somme when passing through it. But of course they are all so young so to them the First World War must seem like ancient history to them.
Someone interviewed on french television expressed surprise to learn that English soldiers fought in both World Wars! A french lady sitting next to me told me that when she was a child in Northern France her parish priest used to take all the First Communicants to visit the local British cemetery in her village. each child would lay one red rose on a grave. She never forgot that day and added sadly that it was no longer done as the village had no resident priest today.
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