Remembrance: War and Peace

Sunday Service, 9 November 2025

Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

(Apologies - there is no service recording this week due to a technical hitch).

Welcome and Introduction to Two Minutes’ Silence

Welcome to all who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those who have gathered in-person at Essex Church, to all who are joining us via Zoom, and anyone tuning in at a later date via YouTube or listening to the podcast stream.  As the clock moves towards 11am, the traditional time to stand in silent tribute to all those who have died or suffered in war, I invite you to stand now if you so wish. Our time of silence will be ended by the sound of a bell and an invitation to join in with our responsive opening words: ‘We remember… and we pray for peace’.

Two Minutes’ Silence

Responsive Opening Words: ‘We Remember… and We Pray for Peace’ by Jennifer Cottrill

I invite you to join in with the responsive part to our opening words – it’s a simple repeated refrain – ‘we remember… and we pray for peace’.

On Remembrance Sunday, there is one great sorrow we collectively share: the sorrow of those individuals who lost their lives in war. Today we remember them and grieve their loss.

We remember those who joined the armed forces

by choice, and those who had no choice.

We remember… and we pray for peace.

We remember those who fought in wars which seemed to

have just cause, and those that had no just cause.

We remember… and we pray for peace.

We remember those who sacrificed their lives for wars they believed in,

and those who sacrificed their lives for wars they did not.

We remember… and we pray for peace.

We remember those who have gone missing and were never found.

We remember… and we pray for peace.

We remember those civilians who have died as collateral damage in wars.

We remember… and we pray for peace.

We remember the loved ones those lost have left behind.

We remember… and we pray for peace.

We pray for world leaders, that they make wise choices that prevent wars.

We remember… and we pray for peace.

We pray for those around the world who are currently suffering the ravages of war.

We remember… and we pray for peace.

We pray for the peacemakers who strive for the end

to many conflicts around the world.

We remember… and we pray for peace. (pause)

Musical Prelude: Pleading – Elgar (performed by Benjie del Rosario and Andrew Robinson) 

Words of Welcome and Introduction: 

Welcome, once again, to our Remembrance Service. This morning, through readings and hymns, prayers and meditation, we will reflect on the human cost of war, and our yearning for peace. On the front of today’s order of service, I have included some words from the Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh, whose profile as a peace activist grew from his witness of the Vietnam war in the 1960s, and his words are still quite challenging in a way, disrupting our stories of ‘us’ and ‘them’. Thich Nhat Hanh said: ‘Every side is our side. There is no evil side. These veterans, with their war experiences, are the burning flame of a candle whose light reveals the roots of war, and the way to peace.’

In today’s service we will hear from some contemporary sources of the experiences of those who have served in the armed forces and the terrible consequences – loss of life, PTSD, moral injury – that have resulted from their military engagements. And we’ll also hear from peace activists reflecting on the wider impact of warfare on civilians, the world over, and throughout history. As ever we have both red and white poppies on our central table today to represent that wider view. Military personnel and civilians alike are so often caught up in wider systems, not of their own making, so perhaps we can hold those two thoughts together in our minds this morning: simultaneously opposing the systems which promote armed conflict, while having compassion for all those who have somehow ended up on the front lines, and indeed all those whose lives are blighted by war, as its terrible impact radiates through families, communities, countries, and echoes down the years. May this morning’s service remind us all to play our part in co-creating the peace we dream of.

Chalice Lighting: ‘The Chalice of Peace’ by Cliff Reed

Let’s light our chalice flame now, as we do each week. It’s a moment for us to stop and take a breath, settle ourselves down, put aside any preoccupations we came in carrying. This simple ritual connects us in solidarity with Unitarians and Unitarian Universalists the world over, and reminds us of the proud and historic progressive religious tradition of which this gathering is part.

(light chalice) 

Out of the fires of war

let us kindle the chalice of peace.

Out of the fury of battle

let us create a passion for peace.

Out of the turmoil of conscience

let us weave the calm of peace.

In the one Spirit that we share,

let us celebrate the vision of a

world made just and free – and

find the strength to build it, a little at a time.

Hymn (on sheet): ‘Red the Poppy-Fields of Flanders’

Our first hymn this morning is on your hymn sheet: ‘Red the Poppy-Fields of Flanders’. We’re trying a few new hymns today and this tune might be unfamiliar so I’ll ask Andrew to play it through first.  For those on zoom the words will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer.

Red the poppy-fields of Flanders,

red the Western Desert sands,

red the snows of Eastern frontiers,

red with blood that stains our hands.

We remember those who died there;

we must not forget their pain.

We remember all earth’s children

whom the gods of war have slain.

Some have died for truth and justice,

died so others might be free.

Some have died for cause ignoble,

died the tools of tyranny.

Red the mud-drowned filth of trenches,

red the ruins once so fair,

red the jungles, red the oceans,

red the one blood that we share.

We would heed the pleading voices

of the folk who died for peace;

grant us now your loving Spirit,

that in us all strife may cease.

Candles of Joy and Concern: 

Each week when we gather together, we share a simple ritual of candles of joy and concern, an opportunity to light a candle and share something that is in our heart with the community. So we’ve an opportunity now, for anyone who would like to do so, to light a candle and say a few words about what it represents. We’ll go to the people in the building first, then to Zoom.

So I invite some of you here in person to come and light a candle and then if you wish to tell us who or what you light your candle for – please keep it brief – be considerate of others. I’m going to ask you to come to the lectern to speak, as we want people to be able to hear you. 

(in person candles)

And if that’s everyone in the room we’ll go over to the people on Zoom next – you might like to switch to gallery view at this stage – just unmute yourselves when you are ready and speak out – and we should be able to hear you and see you up on the big screen here in the church.

(zoom candles)

And I’m going to light one more candle, as we often do, to represent all those joys and concerns that we hold in our hearts this day, but which we don’t feel able to speak out loud. (light candle)

Time of Prayer & Reflection: based on words by Chris Goacher   

Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on some words by Chris Goacher. You might want to adjust your position for comfort, close your eyes, or soften your gaze. There might be a posture that helps you feel more prayerful. Whatever works for you. Do whatever you need to do to get into the right state of body and mind for us to pray together – to be fully present here and now, in this sacred time and space – with ourselves, with each other, and with that which is both within us and beyond us. (pause)

Spirit of Life, God of All Love, in whom we live and move and have our being,

   we turn our full attention to you, the light within and without,

      as we tune in to the depths of this life, and the greater wisdom

         to which – and through which – we are all intimately connected.

      Be with us now as we allow ourselves to drop into the

         silence and stillness at the very centre of our being. (pause)

We gather in thankful remembrance of those who have

sacrificed their lives for the freedom and safety of others;

but also in shame at the wars we have failed to stop

and the actions taken in our name.

Bless those who mourn, and those whose lives are blighted

by such terrible memories, be they military or civilian.

Bless those who carry the scars of war with them

for the rest of their lives, and those who care for them.

Bless those whose know no place of safety right now,

as war and violence rage on, in so many places around the world.

May forgiveness be found, personally and nationally, that all can learn to live in peace.

May justice be sought, that the cycle of violence and oppression may be broken.

We acknowledge that death recognizes not the colour of uniform,

nor the age, race, religion, or gender of each victim.

That death and destruction comes because of our

collective human failures - our greed - our neglect - our indifference.

May we always remember the inherent worth and dignity of every – every – human being.

Let us dedicate ourselves to the greatest remembrance of all – that war should be no more.

For a future to be possible; May our prayers be heard. (pause)

And in a few moments of quietness now let us take a wider view.

Let us look back over the week just gone and take stock of it all.

And let us speak inwardly the deepest prayers of our hearts this day —

maybe something in our own life or the life of the world is weighing heavy on us –

maybe we are feeling full of gratitude, and feel moved to give thanks for our blessings –

let us each lift up whatever is on our heart this day, and ask for what we most need. (pause)

Spirit of Life – God of all Love – as this time of prayer comes to a close, we offer up

   our joys and concerns, our hopes and fears, our beauty and brokenness,

      and we call on you for insight, healing, and renewal.

As we look forward now to the coming week,

     help us to live well each day and be our best selves;

     using our unique gifts in the service of love, justice and peace. Amen.

Hymn (on sheet): ‘Once Crimson Poppies Bloomed’

Let’s sing again – our second hymn is on your hymn sheet – ‘Once Crimson Poppies Bloomed’.  This is to quite a well-known tune so I think we can launch into it.

Once crimson poppies bloomed

out in a foreign field,

each memory reminds

where brutal death was sealed.

The crimson petals flutter down,

still hatred forms a thorny crown.

For in this present time

we wait in vain for peace;

each generation cries,

each longing for release,

while war still plagues the human race

and families seek a hiding place.

How long will human life

suffer for human greed?

How long must race or pride,

wealth, nationhood or creed

be reasons justifying death

to suffocate a nation’s breath?

For everyone who dies

we share a quiet grief;

the pain of loss remains,

time rarely brings relief:

and so we will remember them

and heaven sound a loud amen.

In-Person Reading: ‘The Gift of Remembrance’ by George A. Tyger (adapted)

This short reflection by George A. Tyger, a Unitarian Universalist minister who serves as a military chaplain, begins with some famous words of remembrance written in 1940 by Archibald MacLeish:

“The young dead solders do not speak…

They have a silence that speaks for them at night and when the clock counts.

They say, We were young. We have died. Remember us.”  (pause)

George Tyger continues with his own story of remembrance. He writes:

I met Scott’s father a year after he was killed. It was a pilgrimage for me. I drove a thousand miles, every moment wondering if he’d see me as a symbol of a system that had taken his son. When he and his wife met me in their front yard, Mike and I hugged tightly for too short an eternity.

As an Army Chaplain and therapist, I understand the spiritual, psychological, and physiological foundations of trauma. I can talk for hours about how the “body keeps the score;” about vagus nerve response; the flight, fight, or freeze mechanism. I can reflect with you about the spiritual meaning of loss, grief, and suffering; how they fit in your life; and how they can burden the Soul if held too tightly.

I understand all this, yet not a day goes by when something doesn’t bring to mind a young life now gone. Ghosts of what might have been are my everyday companions. I will not let them go, for I fear if I do that I will forget. I’m greeted when least expected with waves of unbidden grief. A tightness in the throat. Vision blurred a bit by welling tears. A little tremor in my hand. All things that remind me that I cannot—I will not—forget. How many children lost? How many parents grieve?

These memories, these ghosts, are necessary reminders of the futility of war and the desperate need for peace in our world. The memories, which come upon me not as thoughts but as bodily sensations, have deepened my compassion and steeled commitment to bringing peace to this suffering world.

I serve in the Army. I support the readiness of those who have fought the wars our civilian leaders call us to fight. I love the people I am called to serve, knowing full well the dreadful reality we will one day face again. How then can I speak of peace? This is the difficulty of a such a day of remembrance.

Remembrance Sunday is not a day to be celebrated. It is to be observed, scrutinized, and witnessed on behalf of the true witnesses of our human failure to love our neighbour as ourselves. They are ghosts now: haunting lives with the gift of remembrance, so that we will not forget their living—but even more, that the grief of remembering will create in us a yearning for peace that will stir us to action. (pause)

George Tyger closes his reflections with a few brief words of prayer:

Gracious God, Living Spirit of Love, give to me compassion steeled with commitment,

that I might become your peace given in loving sacrifice to our troubled and hurting world. Amen.

Words for Meditation: ‘For Those Affected by War’ by Kate Brady McKenna

Thanks Antony.  We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness I’m going to share some words from Kate Brady McKenna – a guided prayerful meditation for those affected by war the world over.  This will take us into a few minutes of silence which will end with a bell and some music for meditation. So let’s do what we need to do to get comfortable – maybe adjust your position – put your feet flat on the floor to ground yourself – close your eyes. As we always say, the words – this activity – is just an offering, so feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.

Feel the seat supporting you from beneath and behind you, and feel your own frame holding you, strong and flexible.  Feel the floor beneath your feet, and the earth beneath that floor, grounding.

And become aware of your breath – that precious breath, which has been sustaining you from

the moment you entered the world, and will continue to do so until the moment you leave it.   

Focus on the air entering and leaving your body – rhythmically, reliably, and steadily. 

And now become aware of the breathing of those around you – those sitting next to you, behind you, in front of you.  Not just those who are in the room with you. Bring into your awareness the breathing of all those you love, and of those you don’t know.  Of everyone who has ever lived, anywhere.  And feel yourself a part of that great, eternal mass of humanity. Breathing.

Let us be together, in connection with that which is eternal, which some of us choose to call God.

Eternal spirit, may we be ever mindful of what has been lost

so that we can be here together today in freedom. 

May we remember the sacrifices, large and small,

made by those who came before us, not knowing what a gift they were giving us. 

Let us remember those who died – and continue to die – fighting for a cause they believe in. 

And let us remember those too who died, and continue to die,

for causes they did not or do not understand. 

And in grieving for them, let us grieve also for those civilians and bystanders –

the many, many millions of bystanders – whose lives have been

damaged or ended by causes far from their hearts. 

And let us remember those whose bravery took a different form,

for those who refused to bear arms, and often suffered horribly for that courage. 

Let us remember that they were all individuals like us, like our families, like our friends. 

Absolutely no different, no less unique, no less perfect, no less flawed. 

No less scared, no less brave, no less valuable. 

And let us make a silent commitment here, now, to do what we can to end this suffering. 

What we can do may not feel like much.  But let us remember that

though we are each only one, still we are one,

and that because we cannot do everything,

we should not refuse to do the something that we can do. 

Let us turn to that which is sacred for us, now,

and ask for strength and grace to do what is needed. 

And let us spend a few peaceful moments, together, in silence. 

Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell  

Interlude: Nimrod, from Enigma Variations – Elgar (played by Andrew Robinson)

In-Person Reading: ‘A Bruise on the Soul’ by Rev. Dr. Rina Shere (excerpt) (read by Brian) 

Dr Rina Shere is a UU minister working in mental health chaplaincy. For over ten years she has provided spiritual care to veterans with a focus in serious mental illness, PTSD, and moral injury.

She opens her reflection with words from the journalist David Wood: “The biggest thing that [the veterans] told me was that they're carrying around this horrible idea that they are bad people because they've done something bad and they can't ever tell anybody about it—or they don't dare tell anybody about it—and may not even be able to admit it to themselves.”

Rina Shere continues in her own words: I wasn’t raised to be particularly patriotic. In fact, I used to be against military funding and intervention. Today, however, I spend my days as a mental health chaplain ministering to veterans who live with the aftermath of trauma: post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), addiction, and moral injury.

Serving veterans has shifted my relationship with people who have served in our military—including my late father, who was drafted into the Army but never wanted to talk about his time in Korea. He was wounded there; he also contracted malaria. I remember once seeing him in a malarial fever, having nightmarish flashbacks of being under enemy fire.

I work with veterans who, like my father, live with trauma. What’s different is how they seek help to process experiences that have impacted their relationship with themselves, their loved ones, and sometimes their faith. My ministry is centred on creating sacred space where they can feel safe enough to tell their stories without judgement. I enter into what Sr. Helen Prejean calls a “dreadful intimacy” with veterans who tell me the worst thing they ever saw or did, and were unable to stop because of their duty to protect the citizens of [their country]. 

Sometimes the veterans ask, “How could God allow what I’ve seen? There can’t be a God who would allow that,” or, “Chap, I’ve done some really bad things. Will God forgive me?” These questions reveal the loss of their relationship with God—their Holy ideal—or their trust in the goodness of humanity.

My theology guides me to remind our veterans that they are not defined by their worst moment or action. Indeed, many of the veterans I minister to would re-enlist if they could because the military provided a deep sense of purpose, shared mission, and camaraderie they haven’t found in the civilian world. For some, their moral injury is compounded by the loneliness and grief of discharge.

No one is outside of our circle of compassion and love. No one is outside of responsibility or accountability, either. There may be a necessary journey of making amends, and I try to help them craft a path forward—a journey that involves grieving for others as well as the loss of one’s ideal self. Whatever their faith belief is, we start there and slowly try to work toward a perspective that includes acceptance, compassion… and maybe forgiveness. 

Shere concludes with a brief prayer: Mysterious Source of All Being, Spirit of Life and Spirit of Love, allow us to be truth tellers to ourselves and the world around us. Fortify our courage to lament; to call out in despair and rage against senseless inhumanity. May our community offer hope and healing and loosen the bonds of shame and isolation which burden so many. Amen.

Hymn 187 (purple): ‘We Ask That We Live and We Labour in Peace’

Let’s sing again – we’ve got a bonus hymn today – number 187 in your purple books: ‘We Ask that We Live and We Labour in Peace’. Andrew spotted that this hymn was written by Donald Swann, from the musical comedy duo, Flanders and Swann; I didn’t know anything much about him or his life beyond comedy but he was a Quaker who registered as a Conscientious Objector and served with the Friends Ambulance Unit in Egypt, Greece, and Palestine. Apparently this particular hymn was written while he was in Palestine, which gives it an extra poignancy in these times, I think. We don’t know this tune so I’ll ask Andrew to play it through before we sing. Hymn 187.  

We ask that we live and we labour in peace, in peace;

that all shall be our neighbours in peace, in peace;

distrust and hatred will turn to love,

all the prisoners freed,

and our only war will be the one

against all human need.

We work for the end of disunion in truth, in truth;

that all may be one in communion in truth, in truth;

we choose the road of peace and prayer

countless pilgrims trod,

so that Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Jew

are together in God.

We call to our sisters and brothers, unite, unite!

that all may live for others, unite, unite!

and so the nations will be as one,

one the flag unfurled,

one law, one life, one hope, one goal,

one people and one world.

In-Person Reading: ‘Making Peace’ by Denise Levertov (Jasmine to read)

A voice from the dark called out,

             ‘The poets must give us

imagination of peace, to oust the intense, familiar

imagination of disaster. Peace, not only

the absence of war.’

                                   But peace, like a poem,

is not there ahead of itself,

can’t be imagined before it is made,

can’t be known except

in the words of its making,

grammar of justice,

syntax of mutual aid.

                                       A feeling towards it,

dimly sensing a rhythm, is all we have

until we begin to utter its metaphors,

learning them as we speak.

                                              A line of peace might appear

if we restructured the sentence our lives are making,

revoked its reaffirmation of profit and power,

questioned our needs, allowed

long pauses . . .

                        A cadence of peace might balance its weight

on that different fulcrum; peace, a presence,

an energy field more intense than war,

might pulse then,

stanza by stanza into the world,

each act of living

one of its words, each word

a vibration of light—facets

of the forming crystal.

In-Person Reading: ‘I Can’t Make the World be Peaceful’ by John Roedel (read by Juliet)

I can’t make the

world be peaceful

I can’t stall tanks

from roaring down roads

I can’t prevent children

from having to hide in bunkers

I can’t convince the news to

stop turning war into a video game

I can’t silence the sound of bombs

tearing neighbourhoods apart

I can’t turn a guided missile

into a bouquet of flowers

I can’t make a warmonger

have an ounce of empathy

I can’t convince ambassadors

to quit playing truth or dare

I can’t deflect a sniper’s bullet

from turning a wife into a widow

I can’t stave off a country being

reduced to ash and rubble

I can’t do any of that

   the only thing I can do

is love the next person I encounter

without any conditions or strings

to love my neighbour

so fearlessly that

it starts a ripple

that stretches from

one horizon to the next

I can’t force peace

on the world

but I can become a force

of peace in the world

because

sometimes all it takes

is a single lit candle

in the darkness

to start a movement

“Lord, make me a candle

of comfort in this world

let me burn with peace”.

Hymn 73 (purple): ‘If Every Woman in the World’

Let’s sing again, one last time, it’s another new one but a really lovely one, and quite uplifting to end on. I did include a link to this in the Friday email so I hope a few of you have learned it! It’s number 73 in the purple book, ‘If Every Woman in the World’, and again let’s hear it through:  

If every woman in the world had her mind set on freedom,

if every woman in the world dreamed a sweet dream of peace,

if every woman of every nation, young and old, each generation,

held her hands out in the name of love there would be no more war.

If every man in the world had his mind set on freedom,

if every brother stood with brother as a witness for peace,

if every man of every nation young and old, each generation,

held his hands out in the name of love there would be no more war.

If every leader in the world shared a vision of freedom,

if every leader in the world shared a sweet dream of peace,

if every leader of every nation worked for justice and liberation,

holding hands out in the name of love there would be no more war.

If every nation in the world set a true course for freedom,

if every nation raised its children in a culture of peace,

if all our sons and all our daughters reached in friendship across the waters,

refusing to be enemies there would be no more war.

Announcements:

Thanks to Ramona for hosting and Charlotte for co-hosting. Thanks to Andrew and Benjie for lovely music today. Thanks to Antony, Brian, Jasmine and Juliet for reading. Thanks to Juliet for greeting and Liz for making coffee. If you are in-person do stay for cake (I’ve made two cakes this week – a second attempt at date and walnut – and a pear and ginger cake too).

Tonight and Friday at 7pm we’ve got our ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week our theme is ‘Home’ – email me if you want to join us and I’ll share the link.

Sonya is back with Nia Dance from this coming Friday at 12.30pm.

Next Sunday Sarah Tinker will be here to lead a service on ‘Harming and Healing’.

We’ve got loads of things coming up in the weeks ahead. It’s only a month now until our Tea Dance and I particularly hope you’ll come along to support that. Please let me know if you’re coming along!

Details of all our various activities are printed on the back of the order of service, for you to take away, and also in the Friday email.  The congregation very much has a life beyond Sunday mornings; we encourage you to keep in touch, look out for each other, and do what you can to nurture supportive connections. Just time for our closing words and closing music now.  

Responsive Closing Words: ‘Prayer for the World’ by Amy Petrie Shaw

And our closing words are also responsive, the words are in your order of service, but again it’s a simple repeated refrain: ‘we lift up our hearts’.

For all who die in war

We lift up our hearts

For all who live in suffering in the aftermath of violence

We lift up our hearts

For all who give their lives in smoke and flame

We lift up our hearts

For all who go on in honour of the dead

We lift up our hearts

For all who have served

We lift up our hearts

For our country and our world

We lift up our hearts

For a planet that will find peace

We lift up our hearts

For the young and the innocent

We lift up our hearts

For the weary and war torn

We lift up our hearts

For those who would pray

We lift up our hearts

For those too angry to cry

We lift up our hearts

For all of us, for the many names of God

We lift up our hearts

We lift up our hearts.

Shanti, shalom, peace, sa laam. Amen.

Closing Music: Chanson de Matin – Elgar (performed by Benjie del Rosario and Andrew Robinson) 

Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

9th November 2025