As a little boy, I remember asking my grandfather about the First World War.

He told me that he had walked fifteen miles with some other young miners to Pontefract Castle, to enlist. Unfortunately, or fortunately, during the routine medical, he was found not to meet the rather low health requirements. He was given a cup of tea and a muffin, and set out to walk the fifteen miles back home.

He didn’t, then, go to war, but he did tell me something that spoke volumes about it.

He said that a young friend of his, a miner like himself, had volunteered, and after only a few weeks of training, had been sent to the trenches. After a while,  this young man came home on leave for a week or so, and his friends gathered around to ask him what war was like.

He told them about his first trip over the top – when he and thousands more had come up out of the trenches like dead men coming out of graves, and had charged the German positions.

Charged, was an exaggeration. The ground was so muddy, and there was barbed wire everywhere, so the charge was rather like a walk.

This was his first time, remember, and after very little training.

He was trying to run forward with his fellow soldiers, and noticed strange whistling noises in the air.

“Hey,” he called to the soldier on his right, “What is that noise? Is it birds?”

“No,” his friend replied, probably with some exasperation, “Them’s bullets.”

That young man went back to the trenches after his leave, and didn’t come home again.

That story impressed a little boy, more than stories about bravery and bloodthirsty battles. I knew there was something pathetic about the whole thing even then, without knowing why.

Of course, men were sent to the front with too little training.  With trenches, barbed wire, the machine gun, mines, and so on, warfare had changed, and the generals on both sides didn’t know how to cope.

There was a phrase at the time, that went something like: Heroes led by donkeys.”

So men were sent to certain death in fruitless charges that made little or no difference at the time.

War is hell.

War brings out the worst in people and it brings out the best.

You know why war is hell?  War is hell because it reduces people to the level of objects.

The man aiming his gun at you from a hundred yards away isn’t a husband, father, son,  brother. He is some thing that has to be eliminated.

And in his mind, so are you.

It has to be, I guess. We wouldn’t want to kill those whom we saw as warm, breathing, God-fearing family men.

And neither would they.

And if generals allowed themselves to think of the men under their command as fathers, sons, brothers, husbands, then they wouldn’t be able to send them into battle.

No, war makes us all into objects.

Civilian deaths aren’t called civilian deaths any more, they are called ‘collateral damage.’ They are not even accorded the dignity of their human-being-ness.

Now history tells us that if someone attacks us and we don’t retaliate, then we will also lose our human-being-ness. We will be enslaved.

So, we have to fight.

We have to go forward to defend our country.

And the heroes were those who knew that, and were frightened when they came face to face with the machines of death, and yet, out of a need to protect their families, or the pal next  to them in line, or just to stay alive, shoved their fear down deep inside themselves and went forward anyway, and some died and some lived, and they were all heroes.

But war isn’t what God wants for us.

We are not objects to Him.

We are precious and dear, and valued, in God’s eyes.

And those who went to war on our behalf, should be precious and dear and valued in our eyes.

Didn’t I read, just in the past couple of years, that a tomb of the unknown soldier had been opened and genetic material recovered, and that soldier identified?

And that soldier’s family finally knew where that son had lain.

Because that son was and is precious and dear and valued.

And that’s what we are supposed to try to do today when we remember those who fell in two world wars and the Korean conflict and in numerous peacekeeping missions since: to see them as someone dear and valued.

They are not just names on a cenotaph.

Thirty years ago I took our younger daughter to the UK to meet her family there, and to see the places that had figured in my early life. I took her to the village where I was born, and I showed her where my father had lived, and I showed her the Cenotaph.

I pointed out to her the name Sgt. Richard LLewellen Jones on that memorial. He was one of my two uncles who went to war.  One uncle came back. The other didn’t. 

That moment was the defining moment of that trip for Alison. Here in a faraway land, on a little village green was a monument to those who had died defending their country, and right there was a name to which she  connected. Sgt. Richard LLewellen Jones. 

This was not just a name any more. But someone who had been flesh of her flesh and bone of her bone. A person. A son, husband and brother, an uncle lost in battle.

Not an object. Not any more.

You know, Isaiah tells the children of Israel that there will be peace. There will be normal commerce. He promises them peace and freedom. 

Because they are God’s people.

People as a whole. They have had a covenant, as a people, with God. .

Jesus brings us a different way of covenanting with God. He brings a vision of a God who knows and loves each of us individually.

This God doesn’t take vengeance on us because of what we have been. Instead, He shows us His love in the way He died for us.

He didn’t make us die for Him, as we deserved, perhaps, but instead He died for us.

That’s a big difference, isn’t it?

It’s the opposite of how we are supposed to be in war. It’s the opposite to the way we are supposed to be in business.  It’s precisely the opposite of what the world expects us to be.

One of the great slogans of the last century was that of  P.T.Barnum – never give a sucker an even break.

That’s a far cry from dying for somebody, isn’t it? 

But not everyone held to that sentiment. 

The ideals that Jesus inspires in  most dire  circumstances:         a soldier risking his own life,  to bring back a wounded buddy;                   an airman deliberately crashing his stricken aircraft rather than bailing out and leaving it to come down in a populated area;                 a sailor risking his own life to get men nearer to their landing point;             medics going out under fire to bring back wounded men;              women driving trucks,             nurses working in forward hospitals under bombardment,      because they were needed.

Even there, in the midst of all that horror, people loving and caring for, people – not objects.

Isn’t it a pity that that sentiment could not always prevail everywhere? 

If we hadn’t been taught that the others were so bad, that they were different, and their difference made them less than  human, then there would never be a war.

But even in peacetime you still see traces of that objectifying of other people – denying them their human-being-ness – in business, in sport, in everyday life, as people strive to get ahead – ahead of the other guy, at all costs.

We witnessed just south of here, an election process where more than one candidate specifically singled out those who were different – Mexicans, Muslims, blacks and women.

We have to be on guard against that. 

Else it will become easier for some political leader to get us to see some others as objects. Easier to victimise them, easier to go to war.

If Jesus died for me, and for you, then he died for everyone.

One of the biggest revelations about God’s love, and our human need for God came to me when at the age of about ten, I found some war souvenirs that my uncle – another uncle  who had been in the struggle for Berlin, – had given to my dad.

Among them I found a German soldier’s belt. It had a chrome buckle, and on the reverse side of the buckle, were the words, Auf Gott vertrauen wir- In God we trust.

What a surprise that an enemy, someone who would have killed my uncles if he had them in his rifle sight, who fought for an evil regime, should believe in God – in the same loving, caring forgiving God I believed in.

What a bigger surprise to come to understand, that God does indeed love them, as He loves us.

And if that were the size of our human love, then again, there would never be war.

If we could see everyone as valued and loved. 

Today we remember the children of God, those who died to ensure our freedom.

People.  Not just names.  Not just objects.

Fathers, sons, brothers, husbands, uncles.  Sisters, wives, daughters, mothers, aunts.

And we remember those who came back, and give thanks for them all.

And vow it will never happen again.  Amen.

A Reading from the Gospel of Matthew

When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”

Now while the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them this question: “What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?” They said to him, “The son of David.” He said to them, “How is it then that David by the Spirit calls him Lord, saying,

‘The Lord said to my Lord,
“Sit at my right hand,
until I put your enemies under your feet”’?

If David thus calls him Lord, how can he be his son?” No one was able to give him an answer, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask him any more questions.  ( Mt 22: 34-46)

                                   ________________________

In our Old Testament reading today, it’s the end.   Moses has brought his people to their new home, and now he is to die.

Moses is  revered by Jews everywhere. No wonder. He brought them out of slavery in Egypt. He gave them The Law. He led them through the wilderness, and finally into their new home – the land promised to Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob…. Even though he himself would not set foot there.

And to top it all, as everyone knows, he had the looks of a movie star ……………… he looked just like Charlton Heston . 

Moses hadn’t always been a righteous man. He was a murderer. If you remember, he saw an Egyptian beating an Israelite unmercifully, and in his anger at the Egyptian, he struck him and killed him.

But God forgave him and decided to bring out in Moses, the leadership skills that were needed to rescue His people from slavery.

And Moses needed all his skills to deal with such a stubborn and stiff-necked people.    They complained  mightily, and often, to the degree that Moses was ready to give up on them on more than one occasion.

But he loved his God, and he loved his people. And he persevered. For forty long, hard years.

There’s a story which has been going around for awhile. It seems that George Bush died and went to heaven. He was having a great time. Everybody welcomed him and spoke to him, except for one white-haired, bearded old man. Bush couldn’t understand it. Every time he walked into a room, this guy would get up and leave. He couldn’t figure out what he had done wrong.

But Bush was determined to find out. And finally he found the opportunity. He snuck up behind him the old man one day, tapped him on the shoulder and asked, “ How come, every time I walk into a room, you leave? Why are you avoiding me?”

And Moses said, ” Hey, look at all the trouble I got into the last time I talked to a bush.”

Moses must often have wondered how he got into the business of leading people. 

Just as Paul must have wondered how he got into the evangelism business.

As we can see in his letter to the Thessalonians, a portion of which we heard read today, he had to defend himself from people who had begun to attack him in his absence. 

Some people had been saying that Paul preached in a way to curry favour with certain people. He says, “ We didn’t speak to please people, but to please God who knows our motives. “

We heard last week how the Pharisees put Jesus under attack. Now they are at it again, with a question about the law.  As usual, he disarms them with his wisdom.

We all find ourselves under attack, at times, don’t we?  And we don’t have the wisdom of Jesus to help us handle it.

It can come about just because you happen to be in the way of  someone needing to vent their spleen. Those unfortunate people killed or injured in the last few weeks, just happened to be in the sights of a sniper’s rifle. 

And when we feel under attack, and can’t do much about it, it’s frustrating, and we get angry, don’t we?

Some years ago, some enterprising person, recognizing a real need among drivers who  felt abused by other drivers, came out with a button, labeled ‘Missile launcher. ’ You  stuck this to your dash, and when some driver offended you, you just  pressed that button.

I suppose it made some people feel better, even if it only was to smile at the foolishness of it all.

But it’s not  funny when someone is doing it for real –  shooting, that is.  

It’s not  funny when we think of hostages taken, of suicide bombings,  all done in the name of addressing some real or imagined grievance. 

Jean Chretien said something after the September 11^th attack. I can’t quote him exactly, but it was to the effect that past policies, and the Western world’s having so much more than the rest of the world, had  something to do with the rise of terrorism.  

He was attacked for saying that, and it was pointed out that some of the 9/11 attackers were from affluent homes in Saudi Arabia. The fact is though, that Western economic policies over the last half century have alienated a large number of the people living in the Third World.  Which is a real tragedy.

And that tragedy is compounded for us, when we realise there is nothing we can do to change the way things are. The problems are just too big and too complicated. 

But we can change our world – the world around us, the world in which we live.

And I hate to tell you this, but the only way to change your world, is to love your neighbour as yourself.

Love the driver who cuts across you and then gives you the finger.

Love the Customer Service person on the other end of the phone who angers you with his or her unwillingness to listen to reason.

Love the surgeon who made a deadly mistake.  

Love the sniper who shot and killed an innocent young woman as she loaded her shopping into her car.

Impossible!

Again, I hate to tell you, but they are your neighbors.

How do we turn hatred of neighbour into love of neighbour?  Is it possible?

Jesus  basically answered this question, when he said that the first and great commandment was to love God and the second,  to love your neighbour as yourself.

He placed them in that order, because you will never be able to love your neighbour unless and until, you love God  – with all your heart, soul, mind and strength.

There are some of us here today who have wondered how God can love us with our history, our weaknesses, our wickedness.  

And we  wonder how God can love those we think are so much worse than us. We sure can’t!

But He can, because he sees a poor soul, wounded by life’s hardships, twisted by life’s lies, fooled by life’s false promises.

He sees a child, born into this world with all the hope that brings, and somehow, a beautiful baby grows up to be a liar, or a thief, or a cruel manipulator, or an addict, or just someone who can’t make it in life.  

And he cries for what might have been  –  happiness, achievement, self-esteem, a thankfulness for God’s  gifts.

And he cries for what is: – sadness, failure, self-hatred, and so on. Nothing to give thanks for at all.  

And he cries for that lost soul.

And he suffers for that lost soul.

And he offers his love to that lost soul, and wants to forgive and heal, and nurture  that soul  back to health.

And He dies on the cross for that lost soul

You can’t help but love  a God like that, can you?

You can’t help but love Jesus, the human face of a God like that. 

But love Him with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength, and you will find that you can also love your neighbour.

It’s the only way. 

John F. Kennedy is credited with saying, “Don’t get mad, get even.”

Jesus tells us, “Don’t get mad – forgive!”

Oh, you might say, “I am not big enough”.

But you can be.

You might say, “I don’t have that depth of compassion in me.”

But you could have.

You see, the problem is, that we begin with the second great commandment; we are distracted by the command to love our neighbour – our enemy – rather than beginning at the beginning and focusing on  loving God.

Because we can’t really love anyone until we first love God.   If we can manage that, then the rest will surely follow.

During the Korean War, a South Korean civilian was arrested by the Communists and ordered shot. But when the young Communist leader learned that the prisoner was in charge of an orphanage, caring for small children, he decided to spare him and kill his son instead.

So the nineteen year-old son was taken and shot, right there in front of his Christian father.

Later as the fortunes of war changed, that same Communist leader was captured by UN Forces, tried, and condemned to death.

Before the sentence could be carried out, however,  the father  whose son had been shot came and pleaded for the life of the killer. He said that this Communist was too young and hadn’t  really known what he was doing. This Christian said, ‘Give him to me and I will train him.”

His wish was granted, and the father took the murderer of his son into his own home and cared for him.

That father began not by loving his enemy, but by loving God, and doing so, he found the power of forgiving love. 

Today, that young man, formerly a Communist is a Christian pastor, serving Christ.

It comes first from loving God, as we see Him in His Son Jesus.

It’s the beginning.

Amen.