Welcome to our services
today and a special welcome to any who are worshipping with us for the first
time. On this Remembrance Sunday, during our morning service we shall observe
the two minutes silence. As we read the names of those who lost their lives in
war associated with this church we remember that those who were in that First
World War longed that it should be the war to end all wars. We remember that those
who were in the Second World War longed that it should be the war to end all
wars. As we remember let us honour their memory in our commitment to work by
all means possible for that peace which they longed to pass on to future
generations, a peace we pray for in a world that in so many places is still at
war. In the words of the Prayer of St Francis,
Lord, make me an instrument of
your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury,
pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair,
hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness,
joy.
O divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to
console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is
in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we
are born to eternal life.
The service begins at 7' 38"
Welcome
and Call to Worship
Hymn
161 O God, our help in ages past
Prayer
and the Lord’s Prayer
Psalm
46: the Congregation
God
is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore
we will not fear, though the earth should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of
the sea;
though
its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble with its
tumult.
There
is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy habitation of the Most High.
God
is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;
God will help it when the morning dawns.
The
nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter;
he utters his voice, the earth melts.
The
Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our refuge.
Come,
behold the works of the Lord;
see what desolations he has brought on the
earth.
He
makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.
‘Be
still, and know that I am God!
I am exalted among the nations,
I am exalted in the earth.’
The
Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our refuge.
Be
still!
There
is something very peaceful and calming about those words. They come into so
many of our hymns and some of our favourites
Be
still for the presence of the Lord, the holy one is here.
But
is ‘be still’ quite the way to
The
mountains shake, the waters roar and foam
The
nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter
And
then the commanding voice of God speaks
Be
still
Quiet!
Is
it a roar?
It’s
captured in one of my favourite hymns for Christmas –
it
came upon the midnight clear
that
glorious song of old
Peace
to the earth
But
with the woes of sin and strife
The
world has suffered long
Beneath
the angels’ hymn have rolled
Two
thousand years of wrong
And
warring humankind hears not
The
love song which they sing
O
hush the noise you men of strife
And
hear the angels sing
Be
still!
Quiet!
Hush
the noise!
…
is what Jesus said as the
It
is the voice of Jesus who stills the raging sea
On that day, when
evening had come, he said to them,
‘Let us go across
to the other side.’
And leaving the
crowd behind,
they took him with
them in the boat, just as he was.
Other boats were
with him.
A great gale
arose, and the waves beat into the boat,
so that the boat
was already being swamped.
But he was in the
stern, asleep on the cushion;
and they woke him
up and said to him,
‘Teacher, do you
not care that we are perishing?’
He woke up and
rebuked the wind, and said to the sea,
‘Peace! Be still!’
Then the wind
ceased, and there was a dead calm.
That
image is a picture of the long forgotten national war memorial, commissioned
just after the 2nd world war and in Aldershot. The sculpture by
Josefina de Vasconcellos depicts Christ in the middle of the storm of raging
war saying,
Peace!
Be
Still!
Hush
the noise you men of strife
And
hear the angels’ sing
Remembering
Friends
The
story of Corder Catchpool and the Friends Ambulance Unit
A
Hy-Spirit Song
An
Act of Remembrance
In a moment or two
we shall stand to remember those who have lost their lives in war, particularly
the wars our country has engaged in during the last Century and this: the First World War, the Second World War,
Korea, the Suez War, the end of Empire Conflicts in Africa and elsewhere, the
Falklands War, the Gulf War, Bosnia, Kosovo, the Iraq War, the Afghanistan War,
the terrorist atrocities of 9/11 7/7, the war in Libya, the ongoing war in Iraq
and Syria.
We make a special
remembrance of those who lost their lives from this church, most young men in
their teens and in their twenties.
Those who were in
that First World War longed that it should
be the war to end all wards.
Those who were in the Second World War longed that it should be the war
to tend all wars … as we remember, let us honour their memory in our commitment
to work by all means possible for that peace which they longed to pass on to
future generations, a peace we pray for in a world that in so many places is
still at war.
Will you please
stand.
We remember all those who have lost their lives in war
… particularly do we remember those connected with this fellowship, Highbury Congregational
Church who lost their lives:
W.G. Bowles
DM Brown
G Clayton
C Coles
F Cooper
F Gill
K Gurney
HG Marshall
J Phillips
J Saunders
W Stephens
F Warren
CW Winterbottom
H Woodward
528
Make me a channel of your peace
Activities
for all over 3
Words
for when there are no words
It
must have been a year ago that Richard Sharpe passed on to me a reflection on
Remembrance by Nick Baines, the Bishop of Leeds, a frequent contributor to
Thought for the Day. He drew attention to a book published a couple of years
before of readings, prayers, poems and reflections for Remembrance. It is
called Hear My
Cry It is, commented
Nick Baines, a repeated and heartfelt wrenching of the spirit taken from the
Psalms.
But
what caught his attention more than anything else was the subtitle:
‘Words
for when there are no words’.
There
is a time for silence. I find it most moving to share in the two minutes
silence on Remembrance Sunday.
Silence
can be moving. But it can also be haunting. One of my abiding memories of
talking to people who had been through the first world war was of their silence
– they wouldn’t speak of it. The same can be said of the conversations I had
with people who had been through the second world war. Silence – they couldn’t
speak of what they had been through.
There
is an aching silence in many of the Psalms which is broken with a gut-wrenching
cry, Hear my Cry! Often poetry provides an outlet and finds words for when
there are no words.
It
was just such a poem written by her father that Helen discovered only very recently.
Helen spoke movingly of her father's war-time service and his commitment to bringing people together following the war.
My Father was a man of peace.
He was a teacher and lay preacher when war broke out in 1939 and struggled deeply with ‘going to war’, contemplating being a conscientious objector. In the end though, he felt he had to fight and went to war when he was called up in 1940.
He was in the Royal Engineers and built Bailey bridges a lot, usually in the dark, it seems. He was a natural leader and was selected for Officer Training just as his battalion was about to be shipped out, so he didn’t go with them. They were practically wiped out in their first offensive. He felt a deep sorrow at the loss of his friends and comrades.
By 1945 he was a Sergeant Major and was shipped to Bombay to protect India if Japan invaded. They never did, but Dad made great friends with his Indian Batman and his family, discovering authentic Indian cuisine for the first time when invited to his family home. His fellow Officers found Dad’s behaviour – fraternising with the locals – frankly baffling. Dad didn’t care. They stayed in touch for the rest of their lives.
His experiences in India, France and Belgium during the wae cemented in him a great love for his fellow man, of whatever colour or race, which never left him.
In 1951 he was invited to go to the International School of the United Nations in Geneva, with a view to becoming the Head of the School. He went for a visit with my Mother and Sister and loved it! But his sense of responsibility to his ageing Mother who lived with them and refused to leave England, meant that they stayed in Cheltenham and became Head of Naunton Park School.
Instead, we hosted many foreign exchange students from Switzerland, Austria and other European countries, many of whom became life-long friends.
He never spoke about the war to me, but after his death, we found a book of poems he had written during the war – mostly love poems to my Mother! But the last one I found deeply moving.
My Mother told me he stopped writing poetry after this…
Helen spoke movingly of her father's war-time service and his commitment to bringing people together following the war.
My Father was a man of peace.
He was a teacher and lay preacher when war broke out in 1939 and struggled deeply with ‘going to war’, contemplating being a conscientious objector. In the end though, he felt he had to fight and went to war when he was called up in 1940.
He was in the Royal Engineers and built Bailey bridges a lot, usually in the dark, it seems. He was a natural leader and was selected for Officer Training just as his battalion was about to be shipped out, so he didn’t go with them. They were practically wiped out in their first offensive. He felt a deep sorrow at the loss of his friends and comrades.
By 1945 he was a Sergeant Major and was shipped to Bombay to protect India if Japan invaded. They never did, but Dad made great friends with his Indian Batman and his family, discovering authentic Indian cuisine for the first time when invited to his family home. His fellow Officers found Dad’s behaviour – fraternising with the locals – frankly baffling. Dad didn’t care. They stayed in touch for the rest of their lives.
His experiences in India, France and Belgium during the wae cemented in him a great love for his fellow man, of whatever colour or race, which never left him.
In 1951 he was invited to go to the International School of the United Nations in Geneva, with a view to becoming the Head of the School. He went for a visit with my Mother and Sister and loved it! But his sense of responsibility to his ageing Mother who lived with them and refused to leave England, meant that they stayed in Cheltenham and became Head of Naunton Park School.
Instead, we hosted many foreign exchange students from Switzerland, Austria and other European countries, many of whom became life-long friends.
He never spoke about the war to me, but after his death, we found a book of poems he had written during the war – mostly love poems to my Mother! But the last one I found deeply moving.
My Mother told me he stopped writing poetry after this…
A
visit to an injured comrade in hospital – January 1942
(By
Bill Whiteman)
I
came to see you, chat and smile
But
her greeting frightened me - .
“A
minute,” said the Nurse, “No more,”
And
looked at me suspiciously.
She
will not say you’re dying, but her look
Says
so, - the way she says, “He’s not so well today.”
She
let me come without a word last week.
You
looked well then, and talked and smiled,
Your
hand gripped mine, you said,
“Soon
I’ll be back!” I went away lighthearted,
For
I felt that such determination,
With
your happy, plucky heart, would bring you through
In
spite of injuries so terrible.
But
now – you’re “Not so well today.”
And
I walk down towards your bed
Sadly;
with foreboding;
Trying
to walk silently, in army boots.
The
Nurse won’t let me come alone,
She’s
here as well, and speaks to you,
“A
visitor – know who it is?”
She
steps aside and I see you –
Oh
friend, how ill you look!
Must
I be cheerful, smile, talk brightly,
While
the heart cramps and tears are near?
You,
whom I remember with your chubby face alight with smiles,
And
wrinkles round bright shining eyes,
Now
sunken-cheeked, and trembling lipped,
Breath
coming quick and shallow,
Puffing
from your blood-stained lips.
Your
eyelids rise so slowly, as if the effort
Were
too much.
My
friend, your eyes!
Oh
God! They’re dead man’s eyes!
Film-coated,
slowly moving as you seek my face,
As
though you see another world
But
turn them back, and seek through mist,
To
see again your friend,
Before
the earth is blotted out.
My
head close to your ear
“This
won’t do lad, how is it now?”
(My
voice a whisper, trembling too).
You
speak to me between your panting,
“I’m
– not so well – today.”
No,
friend, I know you’re not, and what’s the comfort I can offer?
Talk
lies about next time –
Smile
with my face? Thank God
You
cannot see my fearing eyes, nor know
My
dreading heart.
I
wish you well – “I hope that you’ll be better –
Soon.”
I
fear that you’ll be dead.
[Driver
John Rymer died 2 days later, Sunday 1st February 1942]
It
is as much in prayer as in poetry that we find Words for When there are no
Words – a worship group in a local church put these words together for
Remembrance Sunday with the help of John Bell.
712
What shall we pray?
1 What shall we pray for those who died,
those on whose death our lives
relied?
Silenced by war but not denied,
God give them peace.
2 What shall we pray for those who mourn
friendships and love, their fruit
unborn?
Though years have passed, hearts
still are torn;
God give them peace.
3 What shall we pray for those who live
tied to the past they can't forgive,
haunted by terrors they relive?
God give them peace.
4 What shall we pray for those who know
nothing of war, and cannot show
grief or regret for friend or foe?
God give them peace.
5 What shall we pray for those who fear
war, in some guise, may reappear
looking attractive and sincere?
God give them peace.
6 God give us peace and, more than this
show us the path where justice is;
and let us never be remiss
working for peace that lasts.
Carnwardric
Parish Church (Glasgow) Worship Group
©
Carnwadrick Parish Church and Wild Goose Resource Group
I
will not cease from mental fight
There
are times when in our words we are called to be outspoken. As the Napoleonic
wars raged William Blake was one who was outspoken about the ills of the world
around him. He put together a collection of what he called Prophetic Books.
Among them was an epic poem called Milton. In the preface he quoted the Book of
Numbers chapter 11: Would to God that
all the Lord’s People were prophets.
And
as part of that preface he wrote a poem which for a hundred years was hardly
noticed. And then in 1916 Robert Bridges published it in an anthology that was
published as morale was on the decline, patriotic fervor needed to be stirred
up and conscription introduced. It was just the time when Corder Catchpool were
increasingly disillusioned.
Robert
Bridges then went on to commission Sir Hubert Parry to put it to music for a
Fight for Right Campaign meeting in the Queen’s Hall London. It was a hundred
years ago this year, however, that Sir Hubert Parry himself became very uneasy
with the way the war was unfolding. In May 1917 he withdrew his support for the
Fight for Right campaign. That year Jersualem was taken up by the Suffragettes
and in 1918 one of their leaders, Milicent Fawcett asked Sir Hubert Parry to
orchestrate it for a Suffragette rally.
The
words of this poem set to music so powerfully are not so much a patriotic call
to arms: they are rather a passionate call to change things for the better –
would to God that all the Lord’s People were prophets.
The
key to understanding the poem is in realizing that the expected answer to each
of the questions posed in the first half is no, of course not.
And
did those feet in ancient time,
Walk
upon Englands mountains green: - no, of course not
And
was the holy Lamb of God,
On
Englands pleasant pastures seen! – no of course not
And
did the Countenance Divine,
Shine
forth upon our clouded hills? – no of course not
And
was Jerusalem builded here,
Among
these dark Satanic Mills? – no of course not.
Would
to God that all the Lord’s people were prophets – it is for us to find a
prophetic voice and make a difference …
Bring
me my Bow of burning gold;
Bring
me my Arrows of desire:
Bring
me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring
me my Chariot of fire!
I
will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor
shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Till
we have built Jerusalem,
In
Englands green & pleasant Land.
Would
to God that all the Lord’s People were prophets
The
composer of those words, like the author of the words a century before had a
passion to see society change in the wake of war. So it was that he gave the
copyright for the music to the National Union of Women’s Suffrage Societies.
By
the time women got the vote finally on an equal footing in 1928 Sir Hubert
Parry had died. His family looked for another campaigning women’s movement to
give the copyright for the music to. The copyright was given to the Women’s
Institute. Each year Women’s Institute meetings up and down the country vote on
a cause to support nationally. At their annual meeting in 2017 the National
Federation of Women’s Institutes voted to “call upon the Government to stop the
accumulation of microplastic fibres in our oceans and to take steps in
communities to alleviate loneliness.
To
honour those who lost their lives in war we need to re-capture the passion they
had to build a peace that would make a world of difference.
Would
to God that all the Lord’s People were prophets.
Before
we sing the hymn, let’s have in our mind’s eye what the new Jerusalem would
look like.
There
is no better place to turn than Isaiah 65.
in what I am creating;
for I am about to
create Jerusalem as a joy,
and its people as a delight.
no more shall the
sound of weeping be heard in it,
or the cry of distress.
No more shall
there be in it
an infant that lives but a few days,
or an old person who does not live out a
lifetime;
They shall build
houses and inhabit them;
they shall plant vineyards and eat their
fruit.
The wolf and the
lamb shall feed together,
the lion shall eat straw like the ox;
but the serpent—its food shall be dust!
They shall not
hurt or destroy
on all my holy mountain,
says
the Lord.
To
build the new Jerusalem we need to be passionate in the cause of
Alleviating
distress
Caring
for children and older people
Providing
housing and employment
And
working for reconciliation
Weren’t
those the things that those who returned from the Second World war were
passionate about – education for all, health for all, justice for all – coupled
with a coming together of the nations who had been at war in the United Nations
and in the beginnings of a very different kind of Europe.
To
honour the memory of those who have lost their lives in war would to God that
all the Lord’s People were prophets.
CP
754 Jerusalem
Prayers
of Concern
706
For the healing of the nations
Words
of Blessing
Retiring
Collection
