As the Father has loved Me, so have I loved you. Now remain in My love. If you keep My commands, you will remain in My love, just as I have kept My Father’s commands and remain in His love. I have told you this so that My joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are My friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from My Father I have made known to you. You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit - fruit that will last - and so that whatever you ask in My name the Father will give you. This is My command: Love each other. (John 15:9-17)
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“In Flanders' Fields” is, of course, about sacrifice. I'm very familiar with the poem. I have been since I was a young teenager. In Grades 7 and 8 I attended John McCrae Senior Public School in Scarborough – named after the author of the poem, Lt. Col. John McCrae. Not surprisingly, Remembrance Day was a big event at John McCrae Senior Public School. And, having been a student there for two years, I've visited John McCrae's birthplace in Guelph twice. It was an annual field trip for us. The recital of “In Flanders' Fields” is a standard part of any Remembrance Day ceremony, much as the recital of the Lord's Prayer is a standard part of the liturgy in many churches. And I thought about it this week as I was thinking about the whole concept of sacrifice. As I worked this through in my mind, I thought of a couple of numbers.
The first number is 114,724. That's the total number of Canadians who've died either in war or in peacekeeping missions since Confederation. There were 267 in the Boer Wars, 66,665 in World War I, 46,998 in World War II, 516 in Korea, 121 in peacekeeping missions and 157 in Afghanistan. A total of 114,724 Canadians killed. When you first add it all up and hear that number, it makes you pause for a few moments. 114,724. Why would 114,724 Canadians sacrifice their lives? And why would so many more than that be prepared to sacrifice their lives? It's a tough topic for the church to address in some ways, because our attitudes toward war differ so greatly. Some Christians are pacifists, believing that any war for any reason is wrong. Others believe in the Just War theory, which says that war, while evil, is sometimes necessary, if only as the best of a bunch of poor alternatives. And some allow their Christianity to be effectively usurped by nationalism or patriotism or militarism, so that if the nation says “go to war,” they go (or at least they support going) in the full belief that God marches with them and is on their side, no questions asked – even though we know that many on “the other side” believe exactly the same thing. Over the years I've known a lot of veterans. For a few years in Sundridge, I served as Padre to the Royal Canadian Legion Branch 67 (for those of you not familiar with the title – it basically meant I was their chaplain.) I conducted a lot of their memorial services over those years. I came to know their stories. And I came to know that many of them were motivated by love: love for family, and the desire to make the world a better place for their families. Love for neighbour, and a desire to make sure those neighbours could live in peace and safety. Love for country, and a desire to make sure that this country would never fall victim to some of the inhuman ideologies that they fought against. War and love may seem an awkward fit, but I've known enough veterans to know that love in some form was often at the forefront of their thinking. Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” That reminds me that, whatever my thoughts about war and pacifism, there are at least 114,724 people who, over the last 133 years since the first Boer War, have chosen to call themselves my friend. I choose to honour them today, as I'll honour them tomorrow at the cenotaph.
The second number I want to reflect on today is a simple one – it's the number “1.” It's the one sacrifice that, as far as I can see, really matters to the church. I'm thinking, of course, about Jesus. The sacrifice against which all other sacrifices pale in comparison. His was not a sacrifice made in a time of war – except, perhaps, that it might be considered in the context of a spiritual war. But his wasn't a military sacrifice. It was violent and it was bloody, but in a strange way it was Jesus' way of standing against violence and bloodshed. When Peter picked up a sword to defend Jesus against those who would arrest him, Jesus said, “Peter. Put away your sword. Whoever lives by the sword will die by the sword.” Prophetic words, indeed. For all those who have fought in any of the various incarnations of the “war to end all war,” the sad reality of human history is that one war simply seems to lead to another ... and another ... and another. The sacrifice of Jesus on the cross was, in one sense at least, a way for God to be linked with all of human suffering; a way for God to be in solidarity with His creation; a way for God to weep with those who weep. It was the “1” sacrifice, perhaps, that made a real and substantive impact on the world – because, as much as we often choose to use our faith for purposes Jesus probably never intended, the cross still stands as the supreme act of sacrifice: God, who had no need to experience either suffering or death, willingly experiencing both suffering and death to be in solidarity with His children. A sacrifice that wasn't necessary; that wasn't being called for; that Jesus didn't have to make – but that was made solely out of love. Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” The “1” sacrifice – on the cross so long ago – reminds me of the great privilege of being in relationship with Jesus, my Lord, my Saviour, my Redeemer, my Friend.
Whether we think of the “114,724” today, or whether we focus on the “1,” we think of sacrifice being made for others. We think of the desire of the 114,724 or the 1 to create a better world, a better life for others. But there's another number. I don't know what it is. It refers to my generation, and to the generations that have come after me. I'll be 50 in less than two weeks (although I prefer to think of myself as a pair of 25's!) and that means that I was born well after World War II, and while things in my generation haven't always been peaceful, there's been no need for me to choose what I'd be willing to give my life for. I (and those who've come after me) belong to a privileged (and some would say too privileged) generation, who've been given everything and who've perhaps lost sight of our responsibilities while clinging ferociously to our rights. Whenever I think about the rights that have been gained for us at such incredible cost (the right to live in freedom gained by soldiers who died or the right to be called children of God gained by Jesus who died) I can't get out of my mind a story a few months ago about a woman who hauled a men's barber shop in Toronto before the Ontario Human Rights Commission – because they only cut men's hair and not women's. And that's what “rights” have been reduced to for many people? Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Do we understand? Do we get it? I'm not sure. I'm really not. And what is it – exactly – that we who have been so privileged would be willing to give our lives for? I'm not sure about that either. I'm really not.
But I do want to honour the sacrifices that have been made for me. I want to honour those 114,724 who gave their lives for what they believed in and because they believed they would be helping to create a better and safer world for people such as me – whom they had never met. And, of course, I want to honour the sacrifice made by Jesus, Who gave His life so that all of us might know true life. Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Yes. We will remember them. And yes. We will remember Him!
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