Around the globe, we are confronted with the reality of war—from Yemen and Ethiopia to Afghanistan and Ukraine. This sad reality reminds us that all human conflict, past and present, is a symptom of the war being waged inside each of us. Humans are made in the image of God, but we are fallen and in need of grace. Without this grace, we follow our own desires rather than God’s will. As we mark Remembrance Day, let us once again recall this deeper significance, lest we forget the who, why and how of remembering.

To better understand this season of remembrance, it is important to first identify who is remembering, to be aware of the various identities we each embody. As citizens, we will remember in a particular way. As Christians and members of the church, we may remember in another way. The state, which seeks its own interests, remembers especially its victories and the preservation of freedom, security and democracy. We hope it also remembers the pursuit of peace in political discourse as a primary goal.

As citizens, we remember our participation in the decisions to wage war, and the privilege that we have gained from it. The church reminds us that there’s never a “good” war, even if it is the only choice in our fallen world. As Christians, we remember that the kingdom of God is always a kingdom of peace and it cannot ever be made a political reality, much less through violence.

But why do we remember? For the state, it’s to keep in mind the political cost of war and to (hopefully) not repeat the mistakes of its past, while also giving thanks for those willing to not just give their lives, but also take lives for the sake of the state.

As citizens, we remember that there is a human cost of war. We must never forget the horror that war inflicts on our troops, both physically and mentally. As Christians, we remember that war is a matter of good and evil, not merely politics. For those who have participated in the evil of war, the church is the place for repentance and reconciliation with the supreme good, God. And we remember to recognize the cost of war on the soul. All human life is created in the image of God, and to kill in war is to destroy God’s image, not only of the one killed, but also the one who kills.

Many of our cenotaphs carry the inscription: “Our Glorious Dead,” but what does this mean and who is it that we remember? The state and its citizens might only remember our own dead and those who return home wounded—our fathers and grandfathers and, more recently, our contemporaries and friends, our sons and our daughters—and the inheritance of freedom, democracy and security we have received from them.

But the church remembers all the “Glorious Dead”—our fellow Christians, from whatever nation or side, and all those who have died in war and now rest in peace. All who lay down their lives so another can live manifest the sacredness of sacrifice. 

And finally, as Christians, it is important to acknowledge that it is often easier to remember the dead than the living—those who need grace, healing, repentance and forgiveness. 

We must see our own evil in the faces of those veterans, old and young, who walk among us today. We must see our iniquities and transgressions and our own need for repentance, forgiveness and the restoration of the image of God. We have a calling to serve those who served us, by welcoming, listening, understanding and bringing all those we remember to the cross.

So how do we remember? We can come together and participate in what is perhaps the last vestige of a shared sacredness in our secular society, the Remembrance Day ceremony. We can understand our history, as a country and within our own families, and seek care for veterans through our government programs. We can remember in our worship, careful to never glorify war but to always pray for peace. And we can remember our need for repentance daily and to have the courage to lay down our own lives for the sake of truth and in service to others, remembering always that “thy will be done” must be our constant prayer.

Chris Tidd is the son of Commissioners Floyd and Tracey Tidd. He lives in Nova Scotia with his wife, Kalyn, and daughters Lillian and Ruth, and is engaged in MDiv studies at Huron College, University of Western Ontario.

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