Observing Remembrance Day: a personal reflection

Never give up!

How might we act in this spirit? We could begin with the recognition that we all live in the shadow of war and are more or less complicit in its perpetuation. We need to keep the real impact of our involvement in terms of human suffering continually at the forefront of our consciousness, as our dominant moral concern.

We should become more questioning, of ourselves and others. The next time a politician, commentator or friend tries to justify our military intervention, why not ask them whether they would be willing to sacrifice their own or any of their loved one’s lives for any of the reasons they advance? If not, then ask them whether they think it’s OK to get others to sacrifice their lives and those of their loved ones on our behalf. We should also reflect on our own answers to these questions.

We need to re-commit ourselves to upholding the moral and legal principles adopted in our community and under international law, which are part of the legacy of our forefathers, designed to act as restraints on aggression. We should strengthen these safeguards and promote their universal application.

Of course, there may be circumstances in the future where the use of military force will be both necessary and legitimate. And where courage and self-sacrifice will again be required. But it should only be for the very best of reasons and as a last resort.

At 11.00 o’clock, however, when we reflect in silence, our thoughts will probably be of a more personal nature. For Remembrance Day is always about the loss of loved ones. The grieving for their death. The remembrance of their uniqueness and preciousness. A renewed appreciation of the sacrifices they made on our behalf. A sense of wonder at the life and love we shared. An acknowledgement of the incredible impact they had and continue to have on us, the inheritors of their legacy. And, then, a recognition that the personal (in my case, remembrance of my mother) is universal.

For it is the quality and depth of our personal attachments that ground our wider moral concerns.

And so, later today, my daughter and I will get together and lay out a Scottish tablecloth my mother and grandmother embroidered when I was a child. On it we will place a vase of freshly cut Flanders poppies grown for the purpose. We will eat some cheesecake made according to her recipe. And we will reflect on and celebrate the grief and joy of life. A simple ritual to honour a legacy ‘rich in reverence’.

Once again the ‘spirit of memory’ will ‘brood over’ our personal and collective histories, as it will for others who pause for a brief moment today to feel the presence of the past on their lives.

In this way, Remembrance Day will be kept alive. With small public and personal rituals,   inviting us to reflect on the big issues of War and Peace, Life and Death. To be reminded of the centrality of Love to all our deepest concerns. And to be moved by love’s power to unite the living and the dead.

In the end, I find myself reflecting (in faith and hope) on the following words of Oscar Wilde: “The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death.”

Lest we forget.