This year, sadly, due to the England-wide lockdown, we are not able to meet together physically. We always devote the whole service to Remembrance Sunday, as we honour and acknowledge those who gave their all.
We also talk about the one that who made the ultimate sacrifice.
One of the things that we do at church is that Andy, who is ex-forces himself, reads out the names of those from the chapel, who went to fight in World War I, but never returned.
This year, with the lockdown announcement happing so quickly, Andy was unable to do the honours, so Stewart stepped in. We recorded the following last week, in our final service before a month-long closure.
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
Laurence Binyon (1914)
Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.