November

REMEMBRANCE SUNDAY

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.

© Andrew Pratt 15/10/2012

Please include on your CCL return
Tune: LITTLE CORNARD 

The voice that makes the world go dark
for families that wait in dread,
is heard so many thousand times,
and says, ‘The one you love is dead.’

As we remember those who died
in wars long gone, and grieve their loss,
the nations go to war again,
still nailing mercy to the cross.

As we seek justice for ourselves,
justice for others is denied;
God’s sons and daughters lose their lives
and innocence is crucified.

Now, God, as nations strive for power,
forgive the unreality
that trusts in war to bring us peace,
against the facts of history.

As we remember, with regret,
the brave and helpless who have died,
forgive the hardness of our hearts,
our careless prejudice and pride.

God, give the rulers of the world
the naïve wisdom to decease
from wasting human lives in war,
and take the risk of making peace.

Alan Gaunt (born 1935)
© 2007 Stainer & Bell Ltd

An uncle of mine was killed in the first world war. His brother, another uncle, wrote much later about the day when the family received the news. My grandfather had been called home from the coal-face, asking the foreman, ‘Is it the lad?’ The younger brother eventually left the coal-face for home and, seeing the curtains drawn, it was as though a voice in his head was repeatedly saying, ‘Your brother is dead.’ That story coloured my view of Remembrance Sunday. I was struck very forcibly by Prime minister, Blair’s suggestion that peace-making might be the ‘easy option.’ I was reminded that even Winston Churchill said that ‘Jaw, jaw was better than war, war.’ Peace-making is by no means the easy option. When will that statesman or woman arise, who will realise that the ‘war against terror and injustice’ can only be won at last, by the hard process of reconciliation?

God! As with silent hearts we bring to mind
how hate and war diminish humankind,
we pause - and seek in worship to increase
our knowledge of the things that make for peace.

Hallow our will as humbly we recall
the lives of those who gave and give their all.
We thank you, Lord, for women, children, men
who seek to serve in love, today as then.

Give us deep faith to comfort those who mourn,
high hope to share with all the newly born,
strong love in our pursuit of human worth:
'lest we forget' the future of this earth.

So, Prince of Peace, disarm our trust in power,
teach us to coax the plant of peace to flower.
May we, im-passioned by your living Word,
remember forward to a world restored.

Fred Kaan (born 1929)
© 1997 Stainer & Bell Ltd
10 10.10 10.

God of the nations, God of all who live,
How many gave us all they had to give!
Now, in remembrance of our nation's dead,
In honesty and pride let prayers be said.

Some died sustained by promise of success,
Some in defeat's despair and bitterness;
Some died the victims of incompetence:
Through years of peril they were our defence.

'When you remember us,' we hear them cry,
'Take greater care how you let others die;
Whatever God you worship, or if none,
Pray that the nations learn to live as one.'

We lay our wreaths, perform the simple rite,
Anxious that we may see in clearer light,
As those for whom a nation's blood was shed,
How best to serve the living and the dead.

God of the nations, God of friend and foe,
Under whose judgement all must come and go,
In your compassion show us how to end
Fear of our foes and make of each a friend.

Fred Pratt Green 1903-2000
© 1989 Stainer & Bell Ltd
10 10.10 10.

God, while the world with war and hatred burns,
we skim across the surface of concerns
and though we pray for peace in Jesus' name,
we lack so often urgency and shame.

Forgive your Church its calm pursuit of peace,
from idleness of will our lives release;
for justice make us hungry, help us reach
with all our passion for the good of each.

Speak through our voice protesting at the skill
and science used to cripple and to kill.
Weep with our tears, as every weapon made
robs yet another child of human bread.

Cause anger to well up within our soul,
as all that you intended to be whole
and full of joy is trampled underfoot
by dint of war-machine and soldier's boot.

Teach us to use this anger and our will
to sweep away the forces out to kill
the life, the love you had of old in mind;
we pledge our word: we are for humankind!

Fred Kaan (born 1929)
© 1989 Stainer & Bell Ltd
10 10.10 10.

In this world of violence, Lord,
How can we speak your word?
How can we ever work your purpose here
And live together, free at last from fear?
How can we speak your word?

There is violence everywhere,
More than our thoughts can bear:
Spirits are broken, bodies crushed and bruised,
Minds robbed of knowledge, dignity refused;
And people in despair.

In confusion, torn apart,
Condemned before we start:
We meet within the hatred that we see,
Within the violence and the tyranny,
The guilt of our own heart.

Here, before the cross we stand
And Christ gives his command:
'Love one another'- easy words to hear,
But hard to live by in the grip of fear:
We dare not understand.

Weak and by the cross deterred,
Help us at all times, Lord
- Engaged by love to take the risk of loss,
Condemned to join the fight or bear the cross -
Somehow to speak your word.

Alan Gaunt (born 1935)
© 1991 Stainer & Bell Ltd
7 6.10 10.6.

Weep for the dead. Let tears and silence tell
of blood and battle, horror and renown.
The years diminish, but do not dispel
the pain of lives destroyed, and life laid down.

Silent the dead. Remembering, we stand
silent as they, for words cannot esteem
causes of war, the love of native land,
all that they were, and all they might have been.

Raising our flag, we stand with muffled drum,
judged by the colours of God's love and loss,
recalling, as we pray, "Your Kingdom come,"
a purple robe, and blood upon a cross.

Summoned by love that leaves no room for pride,
we pray that every continent and isle,
wounded by war, war's hate may lay aside,
and find a way to heal and reconcile.

Weep for the dead, from all the ills of earth.
Stand by the cross that bids all hatred cease.
March to the drums of dignity and worth.
Salute the King of Love, the Prince of Peace.

Brian Wren (born 1936)
© 1989 Stainer & Bell Ltd
10.10.10.10.

Across the generations, the Lord who made us all,
Has summoned us into his peace. Can we obey that call?
Our wealth, our pride divide us; fear splits the black from white;
Locked in a rivalry of death, the nations arm for fight.
Yet still the world is waiting for the promise that was made
Of lambs and lions reconciled and no-one left afraid.

The barriers are broken. Christ's cross has made our peace.
Through life and death his sacrifice proclaims all fears' release.
Yet Christians march with banners and bless each fierce crusade,
Nor heed the tears of him who mourns the wounds their swords have made.
We trumpet forth his kingdom; with war-cries claim, 'God rules',
And forget his chosen servants are the meek, the poor, the fools.

So Father, give your children the peace that's from above.
Transform our dark suspicions into the light of love.
Help us to find in conflict a reconciling word,
And proclaim by our example, the Crucified as Lord.
Till the rainbow of your justice shall arch across the earth,
And the people of the Servant king share in his world's new birth.

Michael Hare Duke (born 1925)
© 1992 Stainer & Bell Ltd
13 13.13 13.13 13.

God will, when he comes down to earth,
have little ground for laughter;
he'll find the Christians cold and slack,
content with arch and rafter.
But he is there for everyone,
his thought is with the lowly,
not only with the holy.

That's why the churches are too small,
where hymns are sung on Sunday.
With Christ alive, the very streets
will shout for joy on Monday!
Hosanna from the paving stones,
and from the congregation!
- He knows our meditation -.

God will, when he comes down to earth,
have little ground for laughter;
again we nail him to the cross
and go to war and slaughter.
But even silence spells our guilt
in churches and in cities.
Pray God that he has pity!

That's why the churches are too small
with singing congregations:
the world itself must be the stage
for workday celebrations.
It starts when people see with fright
their loveless ways of living.
God knows, we need forgiving.

There will, when God comes down to earth,
be only ground for laughter
with those who leave their selfish game
and join to follow after
the God who teaches us the round
from worship on the Sunday
to service on the Monday.

Kommt Gott als Mensch in Dorf und Stadt by Dieter Trautwein (born 1928) translated by Fred Kaan (born 1929)
English translation © 1974 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8.7.8.7.8.7 7.

Heaven's walls at times seem far too high -
It's hard to see God's throne;
For fear and darkness take a hold
And we are left alone.
And yet those walls come tumbling down
As we in Christ believe;
Then let us find fresh faith and love
And God's good grace receive.

Church walls within can soon divide
All those who should be one;
For arrogance and pious pride
Have all too often won.
And yet those walls come tumbling down
As we in Christ can see
A oneness which rejoices in
God's rich diversity.

The walls of hatred in our world
Destroy the ways of peace;
For humankind seems bent on war
And strife that will not cease.
And yet those walls come tumbling down
As we to Christ pay heed,
And give ourselves with selfless love
To serve a world of need.

Richard Cleaves (born 1953)
© 1998 Stainer & Bell Ltd
C.M.D.

Life could be good and rich and whole,
for God has well provided;
but we are from his will and aim
by greed and war divided.

They are God's children whom we kill,
with guns and resolutions,
and softly cradled is our will
in holy institutions.

They are his image, far and near,
in search of gracious neighbours.
who are equipped to lift and share
their daily fears and labours.

Happy are they who hear God's Word
and then go out to do it;
happy are they whose life and work
are given direction through it.

Lord, send us out, pursuing peace
with sisters and with brothers:
allow us still the earth to bless
through Christ, the Man for others.

Fred Kaan (born 1929)
© 1968 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8.7.8.7. (Iambic)

Now we know there is a season
for the things we do on earth,
and behind each act a reason
for that time to come to birth.

Stones are gathered, stones are scattered,
wisdom watches all we do,
now we're dancing, now we're mourning,
life is changing, each day new.

Some are born and others dying,
trees are planted, woods torn down,
armies gather sick of killing,
can a way to peace be found?

Broken are the things we valued,
novel visions we must trace;
gone are things we thought for keeping,
held, what now stands in their place.

We have searched, the search is ended,
what was torn it's time to mend;
we must know what to dispose of
and the things we must commend.

Now it's time to keep our silence,
words enough have been set free,
hatred now must die forever,
love determine all we see.

Andrew E Pratt (born 1948)
© 2000 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8.7.8.7 Trochaic

Sons and daughters of creation
By God's will we came to be.
Like a poet dreaming marvels
He has spun our history,
Working, till from shapeless chaos
He evoked humanity.

Dark within our first conceiving
Run the rifts that still divide:
Envy splits and anger hardens,
Colour, gender, wealth collide:
Sov'reign nations arm for conflict,
Violence thrusting peace aside.

Yet God holds his steadfast purpose
Of humanity made one.
Walls were breached and bounds transcended
By the death of his own Son:
And the way for love's encounter
Through the Spirit's power begun.

Down the restless generations,
Called of God, his church has grown.
Martyrs' heirs and prophets' children
Penetrated lands unknown,
Challenged by unlikeness, finding
Gifts to complement their own.

Now as partners in one mission,
We must share across the earth
Hope of what God will accomplish,
Faith that promises new birth
To the selves that sin has shattered,
Love restoring each life's worth.

Rich from all that we inherit,
Strong with skills new worlds devise,
Father, may we serve your Kingdom;
Under crisis-clouded skies,
Confidently reaffirming
Where the morning's glory lies.

Michael Hare Duke (born 1925)
© 1992 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8.7.8.7.8.7. Trochaic

The rain it keeps falling down my window,
Just like tears, just like tears.
As if the world she was weeping for her children,
Down the years, down the years.
For what have we learned since the Christ Child was born
And died for us on the tree?
And why are we still hating, and why can't we find peace,
And why are we so blind we still can't see?

The cries of the dying keep on ringing
In my ears, in my ears,
And oh! the sad sound of warfare and starvation
Down the years, down the years.
Chorus

And I- well I just keep on a-running
From my fears, from my fears,
And oh! the rain it keeps falling down my window,
Just like tears, just like tears.
Chorus

John Patton (fl. 1972)
© 1972 Stainer & Bell Ltd
10.6.12.6. & Refrain

Torn beyond imagination,
War still follows, war on war;
Images distress, assail us,
Symptoms of a world grown sore.
Governments lack moral courage,
Held within the spell of greed,
Luke-warm churches find no answer
As they muddle want and need.

Crimes against the Holy Spirit,
Wrong exalted, right disdained;
Is this now the promised chaos,
World of self-inflicted pain?
Where is the origination
Of the love we so much need?
Where can each seek re-creation,
Source of peace our minds might heed?

Only God can end our searching,
Only free us from our pain,
Set us right and redirect us,
Offer love and end disdain.
'Midst the anguish of the nations,
Through the earthquake, wind and fire,
God is alpha and omega,
End to which our lives aspire.

Andrew E Pratt (born 1948)
© 1995 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8.7.8.7.D. Trochaic

We sing your praise, eternal God,
To whom all praise belongs;
But we can never match your love,
However loud our songs:

Your love which comes so silently,
Through all the noise we hear;
The noise of quarrelling and war,
The cries of grief and fear.

The winds of doubt uproot our faith,
The earthquakes of despair
Destroy our hope, and fires of hate
Kill love and stifle prayer.

And yet no sound on earth can drown
The silence we have heard;
The voice of your eternal love;
The silence of your Word.

It comes to guilty, broken hearts,
With challenge and release;
Prepares us for self-sacrifice
And speaks eternal peace.

Alan Gaunt (born 1935) based on I Kings, 19
© 1991 Stainer & Bell Ltd
C.M.

We turn creation back to chaos, God,
By pride and unbelief;
Our ruthless selfishness, rough-shod,
Has trampled your creative joy in grief.

And must the climax of our story be
Futility and pain?
Your love for our humanity,
All earth's potential: have they been in vain?

If, wasting earth to gain the mastery,
If, squeezing nature dry
For lack of love's humility,
We make the world a desert: we must die.

Already, millions of your children die:
The prey of war and waste.
We challenge you! We ask you, 'Why?'
You give your answer in the cross of Christ.

God, teach us how to read your answer there;
To realise love's price,
And find new hope for our despair
By working out our own self-sacrifice.

Then, peace with justice and your righteousness
Will dominate our ways,
And Christ's obedience, found in us,
Restore your joy and resurrect our praise.

Alan Gaunt (born 1935)
© 1991 Stainer & Bell Ltd
10.6.8.10.

We utter our cry: that peace may prevail,
that earth will survive and faith must not fail.
We pray with our life for the world in our care,
for people diminished by doubt and despair.

We cry from the fright of our daily scene
for strength to say 'no!' to all that is mean:
designs bearing chaos, extinction of life,
all energy wasted on weapons of death.

We lift up our hearts for children unborn:
give wisdom, O God, that we may hand on
- re-plenished and tended - this good planet earth,
preserving the future and wonder of birth.

Creator of life, come, share out, we pray
your Spirit on earth, revealing the Way
to leaders conferring round tables for peace,
that they may from bias and guile be released.

Be there with your Love, in protest and march
and help us to fire with passion your Church,
to match all our statements and lofty resolve
with being - unresting - in action involved.

5ABe there with your Love, in protest and march
and help us to fire with passion your Church,
to match all our statements and lofty resolve
with fervent commitment in action involved.

Whatever the ill or pressure we face,
God, hearten and heal, give insight and grace
to think and make peace with each heartbeat and breath,
choose Christ before Caesar and life before death!

Fred Kaan (born 1929)
© 1984 Stainer & Bell Ltd
10 10.11 11.

You gave us, God, this earth to hold and cherish,
to praise you in our use of time and space,
but - blinded by our greed - the people perish;
we throw the gift of freedom in your face.

As with un-human madness we offend you
and with our bombs and bullets break your heart,
with money made from conflict we un-friend you,
we tear with prejudice your world apart.

We glorify the sin of pointless dying
through mines and missiles poised in soil and sea,
perfect the curse of daily crucifying
the Prince of Peace, each other, you and me.

Raise up among us prophets who will guide us
through action, speech and silence to your peace,
where fear, mistrust no longer will divide us,
where hurt is healed and captives are released.

Renew in us our faith and trust in Jesus,
the Man, the Woman in your image made,
and speak again your Word that truly frees us
to beat our sword into a simple spade.

Fred Kaan (born 1929)
© 1989 Stainer & Bell Ltd
11.10.11.10.

Let us join in song recalling
city streets in time of war,
people who when bombs were falling
lived and sometimes died next door.
Now's the time to tell their story,
hold them steady in our thought,
recognise the hidden glory
which in life they never sought.

Those from different faiths and nations,
Jew and Gentile, black and white,
faced each day the same privations,
feared the same dark wings each night.
While their private lives were turning
into bloodstained history
still they kept the home fires burning,
still they dug for victory:

Dug within themselves and fashioned
ways to cope when times were bad,
found the springs of grace unrationed,
strength they never knew they had.
Buildings, bodies, hopes were shattered.
Could there be a god above?
Yet what more than all things mattered
was the courage born of love.

Let no later glamourising
veil the truth of those sad years.
Facts defy romanticising:
Pain is pain and tears are tears.
From an age now fast receding
Speaks our blood, our flesh, our bone,
for a world at peace still pleading,
and we make the prayer our own.

Elizabeth Cosnett (born 1936)
© 2000 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8.7.8.7.D.

How can people praise the Godhead,
save in humble penitence?
How can we avoid the verdict
of these years’ indifference?
If our God has come among us
then we have betrayed a call;
out of selfish pride our grasping
puts our gain ahead of all.

If that God was born among us
then the one’s enabling birth
suffered taunting and derision,
persecution on this earth.
Driven from their given cradle,
scattered seeds upon the wind;
Christians led that desecration
and, we wonder, will it end?

Holocaust, crusades, apartheid,
inquisition, slavery,
all have had a Christian presence,
justifying butchery;
every century adds locations
pictured on a map or chart
scenes of human devastation
hatred honed, become an art.

Now we stand and, just like Peter,
we’ve no cause our case to crow,
we are self-deceived if claiming
righteousness, our debts you know:
debts of love we owe each other,
debts we never can repay;
for two thousand years’ denial
Lord forgive, for this we pray.

Enter rooms of desolation,
bring your love to cleanse, to spare;
‘Peace be with you’, once you uttered,
let us hear and let us share;
bring us from this darkest moment
into dazzling, gleaming light,
may the blaze of this millennium
end the horror of our night.

Andrew Pratt
© 2001 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8.7.8.7.D.

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