Worship - 10 November 2024

Remembrance Sunday serves as a time to reflect on memory—how we remember and why some memories linger. Contrary to popular belief, our brains often cling more to negative experiences than positive ones, a tendency rooted in survival. This "negativity bias" means that painful experiences leave deeper impressions, helping us avoid future risks. But while this trait may have once protected us, it can also lead to cynicism and anxiety if we focus too much on negativity. Additionally, memory and imagination share brain regions, meaning that every time we recall something, we reimagine it, which may explain why memories can vary from person to person. On a previous Remembrance Sunday, the sermon included a reflection on the ‘Apples of Sodom,’ toxic fruits that, though they appear attractive, are poisonous - just as war can be appealing but ultimately destructive. Humanity’s repeated choice to ‘eat’ these toxic ‘Apples of War’ is evident in our continuous cycles of conflict. During the world wars of the twentieth century, soldiers and civilians paid dearly, yet nations continue to arm themselves for future battles, often neglecting the needs of the poor in favour of military expenditure. This imbalance mirrors the Biblical account of the widow who gave her last coins to a corrupt system that allowed her to be destitute. Similarly, today’s society often diverts resources to weapons while neglecting the vulnerable, a choice lamented by Jesus and highlighted in Eisenhower’s warnings about the dangers of the ‘military-industrial complex.’ The destructive potential of modern weapons surpasses that of past conflicts, as seen in nuclear arms and armed drones. The massive, unused guns at the Fortaleza de la Mola exemplify the vast resources wasted on military might. Likewise, the punitive measures following WWI that fuelled anger and fascism suggest how poverty and war interlink, perpetuating cycles of suffering and loss, especially for widows. The poet Siegfried Sassoon’s poem Base Details critiques those in power who send young men to die while remaining safely distant from the front lines. Collective remembrance encourages us to face these truths, as writer James Baldwin observed, because ‘nothing can be changed until it is faced.’ As we gather, we honour the sacrifices of those who experienced the horrors of war firsthand, praying that we learn from the past and seek peace. By cherishing life and choosing justice over destruction, we might truly begin to ‘beat our swords into ploughshares’ and to remember with hope.