Saturday, 27 October 2018


THE HEALING: REVISION
 
Grace’s laser welds the broken retina:
Light, form and texture
Traverse neuronic networks,
Excite synaptic leaps,
And make electrical connections,
Switching off the dark.
Nicholas Poussin

A simple touch
Recreates a complex
Interweaving web
Of physiology.

All the original potential,
Once marginalised,
Is finally fulfilled,
As the man sees
God.

B. I. Hartless

This post isn't a poem, but is the article I wrote for Outlook, the November 2018 Edgehill churches monthly newsletter.

Armistice day - one hundred years on


This year marks 100 years since the end of the First World War. My great uncle Llewellyn was killed while fighting in France.  His younger brother Conway, my grandfather, was an officer in the army, also in France.  He sent a very sad letter back to his mother saying that his commanding officer had decided he wasn’t officer material because he wouldn’t swear at his men, but rather tried to help them.  He was about to be repatriated when he was blown up by a shell and suffered internal injuries.  He was invalided back to England and was discharged disabled. He then spent four months working as a clerk at the Ministry of Munitions. On one occasion while walking in Battersea Park with my grandmother and their baby son, my father, a woman came up to him and gave him a white feather - the symbol for a coward.

Conway was unhappy working at a desk job and, as the army already had a record of his injuries, he couldn’t return to the trenches.  So, he re-enlisted as ground support crew in the Royal Naval Air Service and was posted to the Mediterranean. After the war, diagnosed as 'shell shocked', he was rehabilitated through training as a gardener as RHS Wisley.  He was then called to ordination and served as a priest for the rest of his life. My grandmother was a strong woman, who coped with the challenges of the early years of her marriage during the war, bringing up her son alone, without complaint.  But, it can’t have been easy.  And after Granpa returned home, the physical, emotional and spiritual scars of war never left him.

On Remembrance Day, we honour and remember the fallen, and the ultimate price they paid.  But we shouldn’t forget the cost borne by those who returned from the trenches, and by all who struggled on at home, waiting anxiously for their return. This year on Remembrance Sunday, a plaque remembering those who returned to the village after the First World War will be dedicated in St Peter’s Kineton.

All wars are terrible, costly in terms of lives lost, suffering, and the repercussions that echo around the world for years afterwards. We are right to dread them, and to hope for reconciliation and peace, and an end to all wars. We are right to long that history will stop repeating itself.

In the Bible, we read of a future day when, in the presence of God, justice and compassion will flow out over all the world, a day when armies will ‘beat their swords (or guns) into ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.’

That day may be far in the future, but Jesus Christ, who is the bringer of peace, said, "Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called children of God”.  If all of us who long for the peace of the world do the small things we can to bring peace in our own communities, and to speak out against the devastation of war whenever we have an opportunity, perhaps we can change the world, one small step at a time.

Revd Dr Beren Hartless