PEACE COMES DROPPING SLOW

My father hated Remembrance Sunday. It wasn’t until I was an adult that Dad was able to make his peace with the annual commemoration of the Fallen. It was all the more odd considering his own father had worked for the British Legion after the end of the Great War. It wasn’t even as if Dad was a conscientious objector. He served in World War II but came home with a profound hatred of warfare and all its tools – my brother was the only cowboy without a shooter and Dad’s only concession to the Western genre was comedy films starring Bob Hope and Destry Rides Again where Jimmy Stewart’s hero was more in danger from a voraciously sexy Marlene Deitrich than anything else.

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There were no war films on the telly in our house.

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Dad hid his medals in a tin box. He worried younger generations might get the idea war was something glorious when his experience had been frightening and brutal. He thought the marching and the military bands could be used by the unscrupulous – always well behind the lines and the noise of the barrages - who sent the young and eager to right the diplomatic failings of the old and powerful.

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I grew up believing violence solves nothing.

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But I do understand that, in times of grief, there will always be a very personal need to know that the loss of any life in the name of a nation or cause is something more than useless. We all – individually and personally - need to feel the pain has a purpose. I am profoundly grateful for the gift I have been given and conscious it should not be squandered. And, if remembering helps make war the very last resort, then I will be humbled to remember - when the sun sets and rises again - our service personnel and emergency services at home.

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It is not the remembering that is the issue.

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I have thought long before mentioning the unfolding disaster in Gaza. I have never been on the frontlines of anything and am thankful for the relative calm in which I have lived. The closest to combat I have been is the wash-up after bombings of the 1990s - so I have no sympathy with terrorism as a way of securing anyone’s goals. But I don’t believe treating every civilian as if they are combatants will work either - our own experience tells us that people in Belfast or Dublin were never members of any paramilitary organisation – on either side. They just wanted an end to the Troubles and a better life for their children.

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No matter how history writes the story every battle must end in discussion.

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I was very taken, when watching Have I got News for You last week, with aging punk front man Feargal Sharkey who took no sides but reflected on the experience on the island of Ireland and the bravery needed to sit together around a table. That commitment, eventually, saw a strengthening peace whose fragile petals have enfolded north and south, blossoming and transforming lives in once shattered communities.

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Peace may come stealthily. It may be quiet. But I do not believe Peace is light or easy.

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I think Peace requires immense courage. Not because peacemakers have power – but that they give away what little they have. It is about standing out in the open and not hiding or giving up. It is about facing people who are often stronger than you. Scarier than you. It is about risking everything for the hope of tomorrow. ?

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I do not believe Peace is a passive thing. It is much more than the absence of conflict: the darkness is fed by inaction - and tyrants emboldened by silence. ?As they say, it only takes good people to say nothing for evil to triumph.

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The things we do to keep the peace may bring no real Peace at all.

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In all our lives we will have seen people treated badly. I know, too often, I have done nothing. There have been times when I was part of the gang. And others when I was afraid the spotlight would turn on me. Often, I didn’t think the issue was important - even when it wasn’t my place to decide. Sometimes, because I did not sympathise with - or even like - the person on the receiving end.

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Peace must be impartial. ?And it can be too easy to preach Peace.

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But those - on every side - who bear the pain know Peace is not simply a blessing or a benison. Peace is hard and it comes with loss. And Peace must be cherished. Too often it is taken too casually, especially by those of us who have never faced the fight, never seen the battle lines. Never counted them out – or held our breath in the hope of counting them back.

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Peace is not about lands and peoples far away – or an aid envelope or monthly direct debit. It is a responsibility we all share, a load we all must carry. A burden honouring the dead of our wars. The debt we owe for today - and the price we pay for the future.

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Peace may be agreed in palaces or over brandies in railway carriages in the wilderness. But the Peace we have a duty to make is carried in our lives, our service and our hearts.

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