I am writing this as the ANZAC commemorations are fading in Melbourne and night falling. As always, it has been a sombre day interrupted by the incessant AFL football machine that hijacked ANZAC Day years ago.
I hope you have had time to slow down and remember our fallen in the various theatres of war and conflict, from WW1 to Vietnam in the ‘60s. Many sons and daughters of Australia lost their lives in the service of our great nation. They paid the ultimate price. I hear critics of the ANZAC Day memorial tradition claim that it is a glorification of war, though not as loudly this year. Of course, this is puerile nonsense, not to mention utterly false. It is very, very important that we remember the sacrifices of the few for the wellbeing of the many – most of whom were not even alive when these sacrifices were made. It is vital for our very humanity to pause for at least a day and remember such sacrifices of blood and injury which contributed to the overcoming of fascist tyranny and all manner of enemies of freedom.
All of us like to be remembered. A card on our birthday reminds us that someone remembered and cared. Perhaps, a gift or flowers signal that we are remembered. Remembering is important. It is part of what we humans do, personally and corporately. That is what communities do, too, on a much larger scale, like on ANZAC Day. Remembering is the keeping safe in perpetuity of something profoundly sacred; a special contribution, a great sacrifice, a divine deposit given us by God through another soul. We remember birthday celebrations, anniversaries and other significant and sacred occasions. These are rich and deep life experiences and are mostly joyous, except when, through loss or estrangement, we are no longer able to celebrate as usual because the occasion is tinged with grief and sadness … we just remember, and with tears when the pain is still raw …
Remembering is intrinsic to who we are … because no one wants to be forgotten. To be forgotten is to lose something of our very humanity, to lose our sense of significance as a person made in the image of God. And so, we remember while we can remember, because at some point we, too, want to be remembered. I find it incredibly moving that recently the remains of Aussie Diggers in France were discovered in a mass grave and identified, and given proper funerals with full military honours. As it should be. The loss of a human life is the disappearance of the most sacred thing on this earth … And so, we remember the sacred – and this nowhere approaches any kind of glorification. The loss of our soldiers a century ago (and more recently) is felt by young people today. There is still a real sense of national grief and gratitude for our ANZACs whose contribution and sacrifice we still feel as a nation a hundred years later. Our nation was built on such sacrifice.
The dying thief that day on Calvary’s hill, suddenly realising who Jesus was, pleads one last thing -one last thing. That God would remember him even as he is headed for Hell. This is an incredibly powerful and sacred moment which touches the heart of our dying Saviour. “Jesus, remember me when you come into Your kingdom!” Please don’t forget me … This was the desperate plea of a man about to be forever forgotten … any significance, or shred of self-worth he might have had left would disappear altogether in the coming hour … such existential, indescribable pain is written into Luke’s narrative. It went to the core of this man’s mortality. He turns to the author of life and pleads that despite the self-ruination of his life … that Jesus would yet not forget him. Jesus’ response is grace and compassion so personified, so profoundly breath-taking ...
Luke 23:43 (NIV) Jesus answered him, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise."
We remember the sacrifice of Jesus on that hideous cross. We remember his violent, humiliating death as a sacred voluntary act that released eternal power for us who have believed upon Him for salvation. We remember in sombreness, and we rejoice in His resurrection of which we are now part. But we never forget what He did, so that it still lives in us …
And, while we are remembering today, we also remember those from our own ReChurch family who have left us in death. Sue Watson left us to be with the Lord in January of 2005. Roger Baker left us for heaven in February 2010. Steve Lucas left us to be with his Redeemer in December of 2013. Noah Stephens, an 8-day-old baby boy, went to be with Jesus in January of 2015, as did Margaret Mitchell in October that same year. Gary Kane left us last month and, a week ago, dear Rosette Warner, left us to join the great cloud of witnesses.
At Wallan we lost one of the founding partners in David Stokes, a devout man, in the Black Saturday fires of February 2009. Nico Page went home to the Lord in July 2019.
All of these saints are still sadly missed, but our sadness is tempered by the joy of the Lord, and our eternal hope.
Psalms 116:15 (NRSV) “Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his faithful ones”.
All of these loved ones from our fellowship were sacred losses. We felt their passing then, and we still do today. We remember them each year as anniversaries and special occasions come to us again. We need to remember, we must remember, because this is how we do life together – and because life is incredibly sacred. And so, we remember. Carefully. Reflectively. Thankfully. As I said, remembering is intrinsic to our humanity and there is a powerful reason for that, by design of our Creator God … it is in us, by His design …
Romans 14:7-8 (NIV)
“For none of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone. 8 If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.”
This is how we were made … practice remembering. It is a sacred and noble obligation.
Lest we forget.
Ps Milton