By Ptr. Rhoda Klein Miller
In the city of Volgograd, Russia, is a museum dedicated to the battle of Stalingrad of 1942/43. Among its exhibited artifacts collected around one of the soldiers found frozen in the battlefield. A battered helmet, a letter from a sweetheart pressed to the face, a stained tin mug, a torn photo of parents who could not know when or if they’d see their son again.
These items represent deep sadness, the tears that could not be collected. When we hear about the death of thousands or millions individuals become statistics. It is hard to visualize. But such personal tokens bring home the loss felt by family and friends. Only by recognizing names, faces and relationships do we sense the true horror of war.
On Remembrance Day in Canada, we too hold on to memories of courage and grief. When you wear a poppy, observe the silence and the laying of wreaths consider the fallen: a grandfather taken prisoner in the First World War; brothers landing on the beaches of Normandy; cousins still recovering from PTSD. For war leaves scars that ripple through generations. Even when time softens the edges, the mark remains. As one rabbi said, a garment torn in grief may be mended, “but the damage must not be disguised.” In other words we should not hide the truth of the hurt.
I pray the sacrifices of war were not in vain. But even so there is a prophetic promise that one day swords will be turned into ploughshares for eternal peace will finally come and the need to study war will be unnecessary and irrelevant (Isaiah 2:4).
As we mark this Remembrance Day, our world feels far from peace. All the more reason to pray, reflect, and resolve to keep hope alive till the day all fightings cease.