What and Why I Remember

When I was 16, I met RJ Cringan. 

Bob. 

He was my music teacher. 

He called m leather lips because I could play the trumpet for hours on end… he taught me to write music, encouraged me to write a musical, made music a part of my life.

Bob volunteered for the infantry in 1943.  Realizing that it takes months to train a soldier, but years to train a musician – they decided to take this musician and have him play for the troops… and so he led the Rhythm Rodeo and toured the bases in Canada and the UK playing for the men and women in service.  

It was Bob who had me play the Last Post for the first time.  It was for a school Remembrance Day ceremony.  He wrote it out for me in his unique musician’s hand;  I have it with me to this day - not that I need it… but it connects me to him.

I think that’s one of the reasons that we wear the poppy: It connects us to those who have shaped our lives… in ways we recognize and in ways that we take for granted.

After I played the Last Post, being a teenager, I decided to jazz it up a little… playing in the Music Room by myself, I would a few riffs, flatten a couple of notes, improve the melody and give it a better finish..  Bob heard me playing and told me to stop.  He was almost angry.

“Leave it alone! It’s not meant to be show stopper… it’s meant to be simple… it’s meant to mourn… and honour.”  

I never fooled around with it ever again.  I always play it the way he taught me.

All me to present some thoughts around Remembrance Day in a similar vein.

Simple.

My father was born in 1939; he didn't go to war.

I have never been called to serve.

My children have never been called to serve.

To those who have served, “Thank You”.

That’s all any of us who wear a poppy want to say. “Thank You”

The vets who wear the poppy are saying “Thank You” to the soldiers who stood with them, those who fell in battle and those who made it home… Thank You for your sacrifice;  Thank You for standing with me.

The rest of us are saying “Thank you”  to the men and women who have served and are serving: The families at home who worry around the clock;  those who will always remember their child, husband, wife, sister, brother, parent in uniform, because it was the last time they saw them.  The men and women who stayed home and worked new jobs and extended hours to support the country in times of war.  The men and women who came back and didn't know how to fit back into civilian life; the men and women who helped others come “home” and fit in.

 Remembrance Day is a time to mourn.  We mourn those who didn't come home.

We mourn those who didn't get to take us fishing, or see us graduate, come to our wedding… those who might be forgotten if not for one day a year when we remember those who have served.

We mourn those who have come back from active service, but are not the same people who left…  the pain and burden they bear is so great… too much for us to understand, sometimes too much for them to handle.    

We mourn lost youth, because everyone who has served has spent some of their youth on all of us.

We gather on Remembrance day to honour.  I don’t mean that we gather to cheer on the soldiers,  wave the Canadian Flag in victory or glamourize war.  

Honour.  Not imagine or cheer; not celebrate "Canadian" victory.

Most veterans that I know are the biggest advocates for peace:  They don’t want us at war, they don’t want their children at war.  They went to war because their community asked them to go and there seemed to be no other way - but they lived and died in hope that we might find another way.  We honour them as we try to find another way.

Some call them heroes.  I don’t think that they are.    Hero is a term that comes from ancient Greek mythology in which there are Gods, Demi-Gods and Heroes.    Gods are… well, they’re gods.  Demi gods are half human half god and Heroes are the humans who aspire to be gods.     The men and women that I know, who have been to war, never aspired to be gods.  
They aspired to be sons and daughters, husbands and wives, parents and grandparents, comrades and buddies, neighbours and friends;  their greatest desire was to come home and make it possible for all of us to be sons and daughters, husbands and wives, parents and grandparents, comrades and buddies, neighbours and friends.

I believe this to be true of nearly every soldier under any and every flag.

For the past decade, I have been the bugler at an IBEW community Remembrance Day service.   Some wondered why I would play at an Electrical Workers Union instead of a local Legion. Well, to begin with, they asked me.  Secondly, I admire the work that they do having veterans share their stories with school children and Finally, I admire the fact that many years ago, they opened up their Remembrance Day to veterans of any war, under any flag.  It's about the men and women who have sacrificed, not about the winning of a war.  On Remembrance Day, we recognize that nobody "wins" in war. 

On Remembrance Day,  I think about my father in law, who enlisted because he wanted to fly planes…  he had no idea what it would really be like…and it was horrific.  But he stayed.  1939 to 1945.  He doesn't talk about it much.

I think about family that served in the Navy and Merchant Marine; the Great Uncle who floated I the English Chanel for 24 hours and only complained that he got water in his watch.

I think about the Veterans that I have come to know over the years, the stories that they've told me and sometimes told ONLY me… I think that about the stories that they didn't tell me…  

I think about the young man who asked me to bless his sunglasses on his way back for a second tour in Afghanistan… 

And I don’t try to complicate any of it with debate; I don’t try to fancy it up with politics, agendas or even white poppies.  I just take this time to be thankful and to honour those who have given so much, by striving to find a better way to justice than violence.   

It’s the least that I can do.

I need a Sabbath!

Oh my God… I need a Sabbath.

Seriously. 

Don’t you?

I’m not talking about a day to watch Football (American or the Real Stuff); 

I’m not talking about a day of meeting some pietistic obligation (although who doesn’t love pie)… I’m talking about a day of rest.  

A day when the busy-ness of the world is put aside.  

A day to commune with the Divine and align myself with Divine will – however I may choose to express it.  A day of justice for the labourer, absolutely, but for now, I really need a day for just to think.

You see, my life is pretty busy.  I move from delight to crisis, from meeting to gathering; from obligation to opportunity at an alarming rate… And I’m missing things.

My government and some of my community are debating our need to take up arms in a foreign country.  And I don’t have  a considered opinion – not that I’m incapable of making a considered opinion; offering a nuanced response, but I don’t have to consider… the prerequisite for a “Considered Opinion”.    

Should we have boots on the ground?  

Can we send soldiers, but reasonably imagine them to be non-combatants?  

How does that work?   

Do I trust my government or the collective intelligence that identifies ISIS (or ISIL) as a serious threat to lives and security around the world… or is this another exaggeration of threat that allows my government (and others) to rally around the flag in time for an election?  Governments at war are nearly always able to win elections as long as there is a war raging.

I went to see “The Equalizer” last week with my wife.  We’d both had hard months… too much feeling helpless as people died or grieved in my community; too much injustice happening around me, leaving me feeling impotent and  frustrated, too much many demands on my wife and too much… well, just too much too much!!    As we watched the movie and cheered for the hero as he efficiently dispatched a variety of horrible, terrible people, we felt somehow appeased… the bad guys were defeated.  The fact that these bad guys had nothing to do with the concerns and injustices experienced in our lives didn’t matter to us… bad guys lost and we felt better.

Is that what we are doing as we go to war against ISIS?  Throwing up our hands over concerns about missing, murdered and ignored First Nations Women, giving up on Fracking, Pipelines and a responsible Energy Program; packing it on plans to address poverty…. I worry that I’m being pulled away from things that need and could benefit from my attention by something that is inflated and manipulated to maintain the status quo. 

I’m not discounting the deaths, the disregard and destruction of human rights that heralds the arrival and occupation of ISIS – but are my CF18s really going to make a difference?  

  (Weren't we supposed to retire those planes a decade ago??)

I need a Sabbath or two to think… to pray… to work through all of the nuance and obfuscation to find the best way forward.  I know that it sounds quaint to some, but I really do need to pray... not that I'm expecting a booming voice or some kind of mystical SIRI to answer my questions, but I don't have quick answers to deep questions and as I open up my worry, concern, hope and ignorance to that which I call Divine... answers begin to emerge.  

As a Minister, committed to Christ’s Ministry that I dare to call the Kingdom of God, how can I ever advocate for war?  I am glad that I don’t live in a Theocracy, it means that I can be a voice and not have to rule… so, if I’m to be a voice, how can I, as a Christian (never mind a Christian Leader) be for war?  Shouldn’t I always speak for peace, even if I’m ignored by my Government and community?

You see? I need a Sabbath or two to think… to pray… to know or to find a way to live with not knowing.

When I don’t get the time, I find that I take shortcuts and begin to follow “party lines”, falling behind and mimicking the words of those with whom I have agreed in the past.  But the past is no guarantee of agreement in the future.  I might have great allies in the fight against poverty, but that doesn’t mean that we agree on LGBTQ rights or the need for “boots on the ground”.  Without time to think, I start to automatically doubt everything word that comes out of my Prime Minister’s mouth and assume that those who do not want to go to war are “not supporting our troops!”.  Jingoistic short hand quickly replaces the results of consideration, imagination and integrity.

I need a Sabbath or two.... or three or four. 

Today, I read an Editorial in MacLean’s magazine by Emily Teitel that suggested that we need to stop blaming the culture of violence in sports for producing violent abuses and criminals and instead focus on the actual individuals who break the law and hold them responsible for their actions. http://www.macleans.ca/society/hate-the-player-not-the-game/ I read the words and nodded as I read, and by the time I had finished, because I quite like Ms. Teitel’s writing and often share her point of view, I agreed with her.

Then, I forgot to turn on the music in my car as I was driving and I started thinking instead… and as I thought about her words and the implications of her suggestions; my own experience and other things that I have read I began to disagree with her thesis.  When I wake up tomorrow, I might have a better idea where I stand on the concept of “rape culture” violent sport and personal responsibility… but had my radio been on when I got in the car, I might have simply agreed without true consideration. 
That’s why I need a Sabbath, I'm doing way to much agreeing without consideration lately (which might explain why I'm excited about the Leafs this season).

Many people imagine that the religious practice of Sabbath is no longer valid – we’ve moved on and only weirdoes and fanatics actually believe in these ancient dictums etched in stone my some cosmic finger onto rock thousands of years ago.  But in a world of 24/7 shopping and entertainment, in a time and place in which beasts of burden do not have to be allowed to rest nor fields to lie fallow AND I can watch a whole season of House of Cards on Netflix in one sitting… our need couldn’t be greater.   We all need a time out… to breathe, wonder… think… and notice.

I took some time out today to slow down… and as I sat down ignoring my own impulse to hurry off to the next thing, I noticed a man… a man that I know and love… a man whose life is crumbling around him.  He’s hurting and the world is rushing past him; people who love him are so busy that they don’t notice the hurt… When people who love you don’t notice your pain, it feels a lot like you’re not loved.   

I need Sabbath to notice the people in my life…

I need Sabbath so that the people I love will know that I love them…

I don’t know what I can do for my friend, I’m not sure how I can love him – but I am damn well NOT going to let his life go unnoticed because I was too busy.

I’m  not going to war because I was too busy to think of a better response.

I’m not going to shirk my responsibility to protect the vulnerable by putting boots on the ground because I was too busy.

I’m not going to forget my First Nations Sisters or my Brothers and Sisters whose lives are profoundly impacted by our Energy Policies because I’m too busy….

I’m not going to forget to be a living, acting, loving human being…. 

Because I was too busy being busy.

I know that I'm rambling now... but perhaps with a little Sabbath time, not just time to rest, but time to think, consider, look inside even as I look outside... I just might find some answers, some peace..

I'd say more, but I'm taking some Sabbath time, right now...  Love you later.