Remembrance Sunday 2019

Lectionary readings: 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17 and Luke 20:27-38

Lest we forget, they say, as we come together each year to lay wreaths and give thanks for those who laid down their lives for us and to commit ourselves to live as peacemakers in a violent world. Lest we forget, the old hand down to the young. Which is not a million miles removed from Paul’s injunction to the early community of Christians in Thessalonica, ‘stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught by us’...

Those words come from a letter written to a community made up of Jews and Gentiles, of former enemies now reconciled in Christ. A letter written by Paul and Silvanus and Timothy: a Jew, a Gentile, and the child of a mixed marriage. A letter that begins, ‘Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.’ The word ‘grace’ takes the common Gentile greeting, a salutation that you might find favour from the gods, and gives it a new twist: favour, from the Jewish creator god. The word ‘peace’ takes the common Jewish greeting, the invocation of rest from fear so essential for human flourishing, and gives it a new twist: rest from fear, because in Christ enemies have become friends.

A Gentile greeting and a Jewish greeting, brought together, both transformed. A new tradition, established.

And the amazing thing was the context. The Jews and their neighbours had always been enemies. Within the lifetime of the people who wrote, and received, this letter, the First Jewish Roman War broke out, as Judea tried and failed to declare independence from the Roman empire, resulting in the destruction of Jerusalem.

In other words, the focus of this letter was, how can we experience favour in profoundly unfavourable circumstances, and rest from fear in the very midst of fearful times?

For, to paraphrase Jesus’ response to the Sadducees, it has far less to do with God as insurance for after we die, and far more to do with whether or not we walk with God in this life.

There is a contrast between the man of lawlessness, the world leader who opposes and exalts himself above all else—Trump and Putin, and, dare I say it, political leaders closer to home who claim to be the one who will restore our place as the greatest nation on earth—a contrast between such warmongers and Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who lived their whole lives as gers, that is well-respected resident aliens, whose presence in a host culture was seen as a blessing.

As we seek to learn from God’s word, and from our own past in the light of God’s word, lest we forget what we need to remember to live well in the present moment, what might we emphasise? Firstly, we need to recognise the violence in our own society, the deep and partisan divisions between the old and the young, Brexiters and Remainers, England and the rest of the United Kingdom. Then, we must insist on what we say we agree on, that we are leaving the EU, not turning our back on Europe and our European neighbours. And so, in the Church, we must proactively seek ways of bringing enemies together, of seeing and affirming good in what those we disagree with value, and of being open to being transformed by the experience. We will need grace and peace for this. The good news is that the favour and rest from fear we so desperately need are already ours, if we will receive them.

Furthermore, we must speak out against hate speech, and xenophobia; we must affirm and honour the resident aliens living among us, both EU citizens and those from further afield, recognising that they are a blessing to us and not a threat. We are all strangers in a strange land; we are all children of God. We must pursue active partnerships that model what salvation looks like, such as the link between Durham Diocese and the Lutheran Nordkirche. Over the past days, we have joined in consultation, learning from one another about how we might better engage with children and families; and we are honoured to have Pastor Björn Begas, who has been staying with us at the vicarage, with us today.

You see, God does not give us grace and favour as abstract ideas or warm feelings, but in the form of flesh-and-blood as we truly welcome one another. This is how we can experience favour in profoundly unfavourable circumstances, and rest from fear in the very midst of fearful times. This is the way of life we recommit ourselves to afresh today, even laying down our lives for others. Lest we forget. Amen.