Skip to main content

Remembrance Day

Listening to the radio today (having guiltily used the day for my own relaxation, and neglected going to a ceremony), I am reminded of how much I appreciate the name of this holiday in Canada: Remembrance Day.

The day to commemorate fallen war dead is the anniversary of the end of "the Great War," the "War to End All Wars," now known as World War I; and accordingly, some of the coverage includes references to the successes of that war (yet even there, commentators do not forget to observe that "teenaged" Canada which emerged "grown-up" from that war did so at the cost of horror and death). Canadian troops are presently engaged in combat in Afghanistan, so that is oft-mentioned as well.

But overall, the focus of Remembrance Day is exactly that: remembrance. It is not a day in which we glorify war, trumpet our successes, and flaunt our patriotism. Instead, it is a solemn day when we remember and grieve those who have died in war. There is a place, therefore, for the both the soldier and the pacifist, for the enlisted and the civilian.

We remember. We remember sons, fathers, comrades, mothers, daughters, friends. We remember heroism, cowardice, and just plain 'wrong place at the wrong time'. We remember in order to go on; to fight, inspired by the sacrifices of those who came before; or, to seek peace, to consider another way, to solve conflicts without an offering to the blood-thirsty, never-satiated war machine which gorges on young ideals fighting for honour, glory, and love, while leaders make war over politics and greed.

To remember is to . . .

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My favourite nativity scene

“There’s no accounting for taste.” That’s my dad’s favourite way of explaining personal tastes that are incomprehensible to him, like living downtown, and riding bike in winter. The inexplicable factors which determine an individual’s likes or dislikes are probably the only way I can explain why my favourite nativity scene contains a horribly caricatured black magus, a random adoring child attired – to my fancy – like a Roma person, an old shepherd carrying some sort of blunderbuss. And a haloed holy family with an 18-month-old baby Jesus. This is the "Christmas Manger Set – the Christmas story in beautiful cut-out scenes and life-like figures." See how the 1940s-era family admires the realistic flourishes, like raw wood beams and straw protruding from the edge of the roofline; the rough, broken wood of the stalls; the tasselled camels; the richly dressed magi; the woolly sheep; the Bethlehemites on the path in the background, ostensibly out to get water, judging...

Upside down economics of Jesus: household action and global change

--Presented at a CAWG event in Altona -- In Living More with Less , Doris Janzen Longacre shares a story about envelopes from Marie Moyer, a missionary in India, who was studying Hindi with Panditji. Marie writes: “From his philosophic mind, which probed the meaning of events and circumstances, I learned more than Hindi.” Just before her teacher’s arrival one day before Christmas, she’d received and opened a pile of Christmas cards and discarded the envelopes as he walked in the room. She writes: “He sat down soberly and studied the situation, then he solemnly scolded me: ‘the reverberation of this wasteful act will be felt around the world’.” Marie was stunned. “What do you mean?” she asked him. “Those envelopes,” he said, pointing to the wastebasket. “You could write on the inside of them.” “Chagrined”, Marie apologized and rescued the envelopes with the help of Panditji, who “caressed each one” as he pulled it out of the garbage. This forever changed Marie’s relationship to p...

Broken people...

After reflecting with one coworker on how often churches in all their forms really mess up and hurt a whole bunch of people in the process -- and how "we gotta do better" -- I stumbled into another conversation with a coworker which highlighted our brokenness, and I suddenly realized what was wrong with my take in the first. I wanted the church to be better at fixing our mistakes, or better yet, at not making them in the first place. But maybe this "fix-it" attitude is partly the reason we keep blowing it again and again! My friend recollected an experience when a church community was in a terrible place: compounded mistakes, hurts, and frustrations had blown up, spewing pain all over all parties. (I'm sure anyone with a long history in the church can think of one, if not several, such occasions in their past.) A new Christian who observed all these goings on responded in an unexpected way. Instead of "you people are a bunch of screw-ups! How could this pos...