Written over hundreds
of years, and witness to the rise and fall of many empires, the Bible is
well-placed to reflect on war. In one of the greatest poems in world
literature, the Teacher writes that there is a time for every activity under
heaven, concluding his illustrations with ‘a time for war and a time for peace.’
This ought to give us hope: no war, however dreadful, will go on forever. At
the same time, we are advised not to take peace for granted: for no peace,
however glorious, will last indefinitely.
Two biblical visionaries –
Micah, a peasant farmer; and Isaiah, from within the corridors of power – point
to a time when weapons of war will be adapted into agricultural tools. But another
visionary farmer, Joel, calls on the people of his day to the very opposite, to
beat their ploughshares into swords and their pruning-hooks into spears.
This suggests to us
two things. Firstly, that we do not have unlimited resources. We cannot accumulate
dedicated tools for every eventuality. Changes in circumstance may call for a
more creative response, the taking of one thing and re-fashioning it for a
different purpose. Secondly, it is possible to do this, at least to some
extent, without breaking the thing in question. Allow me to offer you some
examples, from Sunderland’s experience of the First World War.
After initial success
in driving the German army back, the Western Front had become embedded. In
1915, the decision was taken to open up another Front by attacking the Ottoman Empire.
200 motor landing craft were commissioned, to be known as X Lighters. The
starting-point was the Thames barge, with its spoon-shaped bow and flat bottom,
and most were built here in the North East. Working from a common design, our yards
adapted the template, fashioning barges into landing craft according to materials
already in stock or readily sourced, and local methods: speed was of the
essence. Though not ready in time for the Gallipoli landings, the ‘Black Beetles,’
as they were unofficially christened, played a key role in supporting the
costly campaign and in the successful evacuation in early 1916.
People are not things, and are easily broken when
treated as if they were. Nonetheless, people too are an adaptable resource. At
the outbreak of the War, George Maling was a medical student at St Thomas’ Hospital
in London, not a holder of the Victoria Cross. At the outbreak of the War,
George Thompson was a Vaux drayman, not the inspiration for War Horse. At the outbreak of the War,
did Emily and Mary Vaux imagine that they would turn-over their large, private
houses to the Red Cross, for soldiers to recuperate in; or oversee Voluntary Aid
Detachments of make-shift nurses? At the outbreak of the War, was Annie Goodall
already dreaming of driving a Corporation tram?
After the War, ships and
buildings were re-fashioned again, in some cases several times over. And men
and women returned to their pre-War roles, though less easily: those wartime
experiences, positive and life-affirming as well as negative and damaging, never
left them – and changed the shape of life, perhaps not for them, but for future
generations of women and men in Sunderland.
The Army Reserve
carries on this noble tradition of taking men and women and putting them to
another purpose; one where their civilian experience brings something beneficial
to the Army, and their military service brings something extra to how they continue
to serve others in their civilian roles. We would do well to listen to their
experience of creatively making something so
much more than second-best with limited resources.
And this brings us to
our Gospel reading [read by the Commanding Officer of 5RRF], for the verse ‘except a corn of wheat fall into the ground
and die it abideth alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit’ is
inscribed on one of the War Memorials gathered to this building, that of the Bishopwearmouth
Flour Mill. One of those mill workers, Albert Bell, joined the Lancashire
Fusiliers, part of the family tree of the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers.
The Church declares
that the person of Jesus Christ is ‘…God from God, Light from Light, true God
from true God, begotten not made, of one being with the Father…’ Yet in Jesus,
God fashions himself into human form, in order that we might know God-with-us. The greatest
transformation. This Jesus, voluntarily giving himself to us, taken and broken
by us, his life cut short, his mother left to mourn. This Jesus, raised to life by the Spirit of God,
ascended and praying for us. This Jesus still-human as well as divine, because
so fundamental a transformation cannot be undone. This Jesus, in and through
whom God is at work to reconcile humanity to one another and to himself, transforming
enemies into friends, sustaining human goodness and redeeming human wickedness
in order to bring forth good in ways we could not imagine. In this Jesus, the
tragedy of the First World War, the struggles of the Home Front, and the
complex challenges we face in our own day, are not meaningless, but taken up
into God’s will for life and light and love to flourish and vibrant diversity
to emerge from every chaos.
Each one of us
present here today will die, though for the most part our names will not be
recorded for future generations. We can live for ourselves, and fall, leaving a
bitter harvest. Or we can live for others, and leave behind a legacy of
fruitfulness that will benefit generations to come. The very act of your
presence here today, as public servants, and as people of goodwill, suggests to
me that you do not need to be persuaded of this truth. My task today is not to convince you, but to encourage you to hold fast, to point to the past and
declare hope in the face of the gathering darkness of our own time and the
challenges facing us, as a city, a nation, and a global community, today. We
will need imaginative transformations and self-sacrificial courage, and both
are possible only with hope.
The testimony of the
people of Sunderland, well-established by the outbreak of the First World War,
tested by that War and yet found to be true, as true today as it was then, is
this:
NIL DESPERANDUM
AUSPICE DEO.
There
is no cause for despair, living under the guidance of God.
May we know this for
ourselves, and declare it to the next generation.
