Lest we forget our neighbour

Readings
Psalm 23
John 10.11–18

At church this morning I heard a surprisingly good Anzac Day sermon: an explanation of some of the holiday’s religious/theological mythology, together with a critique of the way our culture identifies military ‘sacrifice’ with the sacrifice of Christ. (The most common Bible verse on Australian war memorials is, ‘Greater love hath no man than this…’) — Ben Myers, https://www.faith-theology.com/2010/04/anzac-day-and-god-of-war.html

And the Anzac legends didn’t mention mud and blood and tears
And the stories that my father told me never seemed quite real.
I caught some pieces in my back that I didn’t even feel
God help me, I was only nineteen — John Schumann, I was Only Nineteen

———————- 

Lest we forget: when the Fourth Sunday of the Easter Season and Anzac Day fall on the same day, the preacher needs to be careful of what they say. 

Lest we forget: the witness of the earliest church was one of non-violence, which changed as the Roman empire moved to legitimise Christianity in the fourth century. 

Lest we forget: the Christian church formulated the just war theory, which tried to limit the way war was conducted; but Christian rulers and leaders have conducted some of the bloodiest wars in history. 

Lest we forget: there are ways a preacher or a church can get all this dramatically wrong. The usual thing is to take what Jesus said — ‘Greater love has no one but to die for their friends’ — and apply that to Our Gallant Dead. The sacrifice of a soldier may be almost identified with the sacrifice Jesus made. 

There’s a crucifix at the beginning of today’s reflection. It’s on a church only around five kilometres from where I lived as a child in  England. The sign above it reads ‘In Memory of Our Gallant Dead.’ This is a spectacular own goal. Someone who has no idea of the Gospel could think Jesus is one of Our Gallant Dead. Or that the Gospel message is about remembering Our Gallant Dead. 

Lest we forget. 

The pastoral task for us on Anzac Day is to offer care for men and women who were scarred by their involvement in their country’s wars. And to do that without suggesting that we are a church of war. Christian people are people of peace. Some are pacifists, some — most, I suppose — believe war may be necessary at times; but all should be encouraged to see war as at best an act of last resort. 

One way a sermon might fail on Anzac Day is to do exactly what I’m doing right now: it could concentrate so much on Anzac Day that we forget that for the church it is first of all the Fourth Sunday of Easter, which is often called Good Shepherd Sunday. 

Why do we call it Good Shepherd Sunday? The Psalm is always Psalm 23, the shepherd psalm: ‘The Lord is my Shepherd …’ 

The Gospel Reading for this Sunday always comes from John 10, where Jesus names himself as the Good Shepherd: 

I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.… I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep.

Lest we forget: Jesus lays down his life by voluntarily yielding his body to those who would inflict unspeakable evils upon it. Not by violence, but nonviolently.  

How do we put it together? How do we follow the Good Shepherd while offering care and support to those damaged by war? 

We failed as a nation to offer care and support to returning service men and women when the Vietnam veterans came home in the 1970s. There was a widespread sense of shame about this war that was projected onto those who went to fight. Of course, many of them were conscripts who were made to go; it made no difference. They came home to a very muted welcome. Or no welcome at all. 

Let me tell you about John Schumann. John has been an Australian musician for forty years or more. I first met his music through the group Redgum. Remember them? Some of us are of an age when we may get an ear worm from hearing the names of songs like Poor Ned, Servin’ USA, One More Boring Thursday Night in Adelaide, or I’ve Been to Bali Too. 

John had a solo career after Redgum, and sings with a band called The Vagabond Crew these days. 

One of John’s best-known songs is I was Only Nineteen. I was Only Nineteen was instrumental in enabling the anti-Vietnam public — and I was one — to learn empathy for those who went to war. 

Did you know it’s also available as a picture book? I want to read you John Schumann’s own words from an afterward to the book. But, and this is my point: I see John here acting as a shepherd, even as an under-shepherd to the Good Shepherd. 

What would John Schumann think of that? I don’t know — but I hope, I expect, he’d look down at his boots with a wry smile and then take it on the chin. Let’s listen to some excerpts: 

In 1968, I was in high school and the Vietnam war was in full swing. 

Lots of young Australian men were being shipped off to Asia.…

Pretty soon, thousands of people were marching through Australian cities and towns to demonstrate against it.

By January 1973, Australia had pulled all its forces out of Vietnam.

But our servicemen and women weren’t welcomed home like Australians had been from earlier wars, and I remember feeling very sorry for them. They came back sick and injured from an unpopular war and it seemed like rest of us didn’t want to know.

In 1981, I met Denny, my future wife. Her brother, Mick, had fought in Vietnam … 

After Mick and I got to be mates, I told him I’d always wanted to write a song about the Australians who fought in Vietnam. I asked him if he would tell me his story. He agreed, and one night we recorded a long, long conversation about his year there. I reckon I listened to that recording a hundred times or more. 

‘I was Only 19’ has received a lot of praise from veterans. Perhaps this is because the song reminds us that we can oppose a war vigorously but we must always support the people we send to fight it.

Lest we forget: to love our neighbour who is damaged by war. 

_____________

I hope you can see why I call John Schumann a shepherd, and a shepherd with the heart of Jesus. 

I said ‘19’ was a picture book. Perhaps you think I’ll read it to you now. I would have, but: John Schumann has given us his personal permission to show a video of I was Only Nineteen today. It was filmed at the Woodford Folk Festival in 2010, and the band with John is The Vagabond Crew. 

I just want to say ‘Thank you’ to John Schumann as we watch and listen to I was Only Nineteen. 

 

West End Uniting Church, 25 April 2021

Prayer 

Let us pray: 
Loving God, 
have mercy on our broken and divided world.
Give your Spirit of peace to all people
and remove from us the spirit that makes for war,
that all may live as members of one family. Amen.