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24th
April, 2007
NILS
VON KALM
As another Anzac Day comes around, I find myself once
again with mixed feelings. As I watch the solemnity of the
ceremonies, I cannot help but feel moved at the selfless sacrifice
of the diggers who gave their lives so willingly. At the same
time however, I cannot bring myself to fully embrace the pride
of the occasion. As I watch movies like Gallipoli
and see the idealism of youth going out to fight the enemy
and save our country, I am struck by the idea that there must
have been a better way. Couldn't there have been an alternative
than to have our young men die so that we might be free? Dare
I say it, do we have to be thankful for this?
"It
is on Anzac Day that I am challenged to remember that
it was at places like Gallipoli that bravery and sacrificial
service came to the fore...This is the love of Jesus
in bloody, life-threatening, gutsy action."
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In
the minds of many people, including many Christians, if ever
there was a justification for war it was World War II and
the fight against Hitler's madness. Common sense says that
if we had followed the path of appeasement in the face of
Hitler's plans, then it would have been too late, many more
lives would have been lost and Europe would have been overrun
by a fascist dictatorship. However the Gospel is not one of
common sense, and I dare to believe that there could have
been a better way; incredibly naive and arrogant as that may
sound coming from one who was born half a generation after
the war ended and who did not have to live through it.
However I also know what love can do, not just in individuals
but to nations. It is seen in the extraordinary way of non-violence
demonstrated so courageously by Martin Luther King and Gandhi,
great men who led movements that transformed their nations.
It is seen in the Velvet Revolution in the Czech Republic
in October 1989 as Wenceslas Square in Prague was packed with
thousands of people when the masses turned out in the demonstrations
against communism. What happened in Prague in 1989 was just
a part of a tidal wave that swept across eastern Europe as
a whole system of government collapsed, seemingly overnight.
In Prague it became known as the Velvet Revolution because
of its totally non-violent nature.
Anzac Day is always a day of mixed emotions for me. It is
a day when we remember that greater love hath no man, than
to lay down his life for his friends. As I come to think about
another Anzac Day, I am challenged not to be judgmental about
this day and feel that it is glorifying war. I am challenged
instead to remember that it was at places like Gallipoli that
“the best Australians were loyal to their mates in every
circumstance (one laid down his life by giving his gas mask
to a friend)”. It is on Anzac Day that I am challenged
to remember that it was at places like Gallipoli that bravery
and sacrificial service came to the fore through the actions
of Simpson, “who was shot while carrying wounded men
from the front with his donkey”. This is the love of
Jesus in bloody, life-threatening, gutsy action.
On Anzac Day, I feel emotional as I remember the loyalty and
sacrifice of our diggers. It reminds and convicts me of how
I am called to live my life, in service to others no matter
what the cost. However I also feel sad that there seems to
prevail an attitude that there was no other way and that these
men had to be sacrificed, that it was inevitable. I dare to
believe in a different way. Let Anzac Day be a reminder to
us that the circumstances in which these brave sacrifices
took place must never happen again. Let us fight with all
our might to beat our swords into ploughshares and let nations
remember war no more.
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