Lest we forget

Today is Anzac Day.

Five years ago today I was at Gallipoli to commerate Anzac Day. The main New Zealand memorial site on the Gallipoli peninsula is called Chunuk Bair, and is essentially a massive hill that the New Zealand forces had to take.

I sat on the top of the hill, looking down into the deep valley below and tried to imagine what it would have been like for the young New Zealand soliders tasked with climbing this hill. It's covered in trees, scrub and rocks. The Turkish Army was at the top firing down on the soldiers as they tried to advance. And it is STEEP.

These young men, many the same age as I was then, fighting in a county half a world away from their home.

The harder I tried to imagine what it would have been like for them, the more I realised that I had no idea. Hopefully I will never have any idea of what those men went through.

They fought so I would not have to. We would not have to.

364 days of the year, we don't really think about war. It's not a nice thing to think about so why would we? But Anzac Day is the one day of the year that we stop and say "thank you". Thank you to those who fought, thank you to those who gave their lives, thank you to those who never came home.

Take time to say thank you. After everything the veterans went through, it is the very least we can do.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

I don't know about you but for me at the moment it's hard not to see poppies almost everywhere. They are the visual reminder that we will soon be commerating Anzac day.

Have you ever wondered why it is that poppies have become so connected with a day that commerates war? Seems an odd occasion to be connected with something as delicate as a flower.

The words of the poem above were written by a medical doctor during the First World War in Ypres, Belgium. Like many soldiers he had noticed that after battles had finished, often the first plants to grow back were wild flowers, particularly poppies. For the soldiers the flowers were a welcome reminder that beauty can come from the most ugly of places.

The poppy was adopted in the 1920's by the New Zealand Returned Services Association (RSA), and has been a proud part of Anzac day ever since.The poppies became a symbol of many things. Of beauty and hope, of rememberance and friends lost.

So this Anzac Day if you're wearing a poppy, take a moment to think about what it represents. And wear it proudly.

Why I remember

Everyone has their own reasons for commerating Anzac Day, or to not commerate the day in some cases. I have always attended Anzac Day services - when I was younger it was because I was in the Girls' Brigade group and now because I feel it is important to.

As a child I had no real connection with the veterans I saw each Anzac Day, proudly marching with their medals pinned to their chests. War was not something that was discussed with my Grandpa, and I never got the chance to meet my Grandad.

It was not until I was older and understood what my grandfathers went through in World War Two that I had a personal reason to commerate Anzac Day, and now I do proudly.

So why do I remember?

My Grandpa was a young man when he enlisted with the Royal Navy. He was sent to Canada to train as a fighter pilot, and very nearly qualified. I think it was very fortunate that he didn't - fighter pilots didn't have a good survival rate. So he became an engineer on an Aircraft carrier and spent a lot of the war in the Pacific. He had his 21st birthday while he was overseas, away from his fiancee and away from his family.

My Grandad was enlisted in the British Army. He fought in many of the major battles that the British Army engaged in Africa and Europe. He was one of the last men off the beaches at Dunkirk, he fought at El Alamein and Monte Cassino, eventually ending up in Austria as the war ended. He was captured by German forces twice, away for a total of 7 years. When he left his family his daughters were toddlers of 1 and 3, by the time he returned they were girls of 8 and 10, he had missed their childhood.

My Grandfathers. Both good honourable men who fought for their country.

They are why I remember.

Forgiveness

"Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives...you are now lying in the soil of a friendly country. Therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us, where they lie, side by side here in this country of ours. You, the mothers who sent their sons from faraway countries wipe away your tears. Your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land, they have become our sons as well."

- Mustafa Kemal Ataturk

Many things went through my mind when I first saw these words. I was in Turkey on the Gallipoli peninsula and it was the day before Anzac Day.

Mustafa Ataturk was the leader of Turkey from 1923 to 1938 and is the founder of modern Turkey. He wrote these words in 1934 as a tribute to those who lost their lives at Gallipoli.

The reason I find these words so profound is that we (the British, New Zealand and Australia) invaded their country. They were no where near us, yet to gain a tactical advantage we invaded their land and forced them to fight.

Ataturk recognised the sacrifice of the men of both sides, and the impact that their deaths had had on their families.

He told their mother’s not to worry, that their son’s were safe and would be taken care of.

He forgave the invading forces, and recognised that we are no different from each other.

When I went to Turkey I was expecting...something. Unfriendliness, resentment, anger maybe? But there wasn’t any. The Turks welcomed us with open arms, and made sure we felt wanted in their country.

They had forgiven us.

I for one think that this is awesome. I like the idea that Anzac Day can be used both to remember those who fought and died, but also to forgive the events that we remember.

Humanity is never so beautiful as when praying for forgiveness, or else forgiving another. --Jean Paul Richter

Sure to Rise!

Most of us will know this as the Edmond’s slogan, but if Jesus had had a marketing guru amongst the disciples, it would have been a pretty good catch phrase for Him.

Today is Easter Sunday, also known as Resurrection Sunday. The day we get to celebrate our Lord Jesus rising from the grave!

Apart from Christmas where we celebrate our Saviour being sent to Earth, Resurrection Sunday is the biggest party of the Christian faith.

But think for a moment about the days leading up to today. I don’t know about you but if I had been one of the disciples, or one of the women who went to Jesus’ grave in the morning, the last couple of days would have been awful.

Imagine that you have just seen the man you thought was here as the Messiah hung on a cross, died and put into a tomb. The man who had told you that he would rise again.

All the hope you had placed in the man who claimed to be the Son of God, gone the moment he died.

Then imagine you’re one of the women - Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, Salome or Joanna - who went to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus, only to be confronted by the stone covering the tomb rolled away, the tomb empty.

An angel appears to you saying “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. Here is not here; he has risen; just as he has said.”

If I had been one of those women, there would have been a lot going through my head at that point. Fear. Disbelief Joy. Excitement. Hope.

Could it really be true? Could he have risen just as he said?

The Bible says the women hurried away “afraid but filled with joy” to go and tell the disciples what they had just seen. They believed, they knew that Jesus was risen, and that they were saved. They knew they had to celebrate and spread the good news!

The story of Easter Sunday is at the heart of the Gospel - the Good News.

Because what better news could there be? Our Lord Jesus is risen!

Jesus - Sure to Rise!

How "good" is Good Friday?

When I was growing up I didn't think that Good Friday was terribly good at all. Why were we calling a day where someone died gruesomely on a cross 2000 years ago good?

I knew why we had Easter, and what it was celebrating. But I'm not sure I really understood truly what Easter meant.

For those who have grown up in the Church we know that Jesus was betrayed, taken before Pontius Pilate, and eventually handed over to the crowd to be crucified.

Jesus is beaten and whipped before being made to carry his cross through the streets. He is then nailed to the cross, which is then hauled upright on the hills of Calvary.

Jesus hangs there in agonising pain, before crying out "Father, why have you forsaken me?" and dying.

So remind me how this is good? Sounds pretty bad to me.

For me there a two words that make Good Friday good.

The first is Faith.

Jesus had to have enormous faith in God, faith in God's plan, faith that he hadn't been forsaken, faith that it would all be worth it.
Faith that his disciples would do as he had asked, faith his message would survive.

The disciples had to have faith. The man many of them had given up everything to follow was now hanging on a cross, about to die for proclaiming he was the Son of God. They had to have faith that all that Jesus had told them was true, faith that he would rise again.

We get to have faith in a loving God, and a Saviour who payed the ultimate price for us. Which leads to the next word.

The other word is Mercy.

Our God is a merciful God, and the events of Good Friday are all about this. The word Mercy comes from the Latin merces meaning price paid.

Price Paid.

Our price is paid, our lives redeemed. That is why Jesus had to die. To pay the price of our sins, now and forever. How awesome is that?

Because of the willing sacrifice of one man, we get to live forever.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. "  John 3:16

Faith & Mercy. Eternal life. Faith in a Merciful God.
 
Turns out Good Friday is pretty good after all.